occurred in the Matchin family.

One evening, as Sam was about leaving his work, Fergus Ferguson said:

"You'll not come here the morn. You're wanted till the house--a bit o'
work in the library. They'll be tellin' you there."

This was faithfully reported by Sam to his confessor that same night.

"Well, you are in luck. I wish I had your chance," said Offitt.

Sam opened his blue eyes in mute wonder.

"Well, what's the chance, and what would you do with it, ef you had
it?"

Offitt hesitated a moment before replying.

"Oh, I was just a jokin'. I meant it was such an honor for common folks
like us to git inside of the palace of a high-toned cuss like Farnham;
and the fact is, Sammy," he continued, more seriously, "I _would_ like
to see the inside of some of these swell places. I am a student of
human nature, you know, in its various forms. I consider the lab'rin'
man as the normal healthy human--that is, if he don't work too hard. I
consider wealth as a kind of disease; wealth and erristocracy is a kind
of dropsy. Now, the true reformer is like a doctor,--he wants to know
all about diseases, by sight and handlin'! I would like to study the
symptoms of erristocracy in Farnham's house--right in the wards of the
hospital."

"Well, that beats me," said Sam. "I've been in a lot of fine houses on
Algonquin Avenue, and I never seen anything yet that favored a
hospital."

This dense stupidity was almost more than Offitt could bear. But a
ready lie came to his aid.

"Looky here!" he continued, "I'll tell you a secret. I'm writin' a
story for the 'Irish Harp,' and I want to describe the residence of
jess such a vampire as this here Farnham. Now, writin', as I do, in the
cause of humanity, I naturally want to git my facts pretty near right.
You kin help me in this. I'll call to-morrow to see you while you're
there, and I'll get some p'ints that'll make Rome howl when they come
out."

Sam was hardly educated up to the point his friend imagined. His zeal
for humanity and the "rehabitation" of labor was not so great as to
make him think it a fine thing to be a spy and a sneak in the houses of
his employers. He was embarrassed by the suggestion, and made no reply,
but sat smoking his pipe in silence. He had not the diplomatist's art
of putting a question by with a smile. Offitt had tact enough to
forbear insisting upon a reply.

He was, in fact, possessed of very considerable natural aptitude for
political life. He ha