een put in my head when I was a growing lad it would have
straightened many a thing. Why ain't we taught?' And I said to him:
'Jacob, teachers are not taught. There is only one here, one there, that
thinks what only it is well to learn,--justice for all the world. I who
would do justice am made to wait, but the sin is with you, not with me.'

"So to-day I wait for such time as wisdom may come. My son is one with
me in this. He has a plan and soon he will try, and where I failed his
more knowledge may do better. But for me, I think that this generation
must suffer much, and in pain and want learn, it may be, what is life.
To-day it knows not and cares not, save a few. How shall the many be
made to know?"

CHAPTER FOURTEENTH.

THE WIDOW MALONEY'S BOARDERS.

To the old New-Yorker taking his pensive way through streets where only
imagination can supply the old landmarks, long ago vanished, there is a
conviction that he knows the city foot by foot as it has crept
northward; and he repudiates the thought that its growth has ended such
possibility, and that many a dark corner is as remote from his or any
knowledge save that of its occupants as if in Caffre-land. The newest
New-Yorker has small interest in anything but the west side and the
space down-town occupied by his store or office.

And so it chances that in spite of occasional series of descriptive
articles, in spite of an elaborately written local history and
unnumbered novels whose background is the city life and thought, there
is little real knowledge, and, save among charitable workers, the
police, and adventurous newspaper men, no thought of what life may be
lived not a stone's-throw from the great artery of New York, Broadway.

On one point there can be no doubt. Not Africa in its most pestilential
and savage form holds surer disease or more determined barbarians than
nest together under many a roof within hearing of the rush and roar of
the busy streets where men come and go, eager for no knowledge or wisdom
under the sun save the knowledge that will make them better bargainers.
There comes even a certain impatient distrust of those who persist in
unsavory researches and more unsavory details of the results. If there
is not distrust; if the easy-going kindliness that is a portion of the
American temperament is stirred, it is but for the moment; and when the
hand that sought the pocket or the check-book instinctively has
presented its gift, interest