was ungrateful and undutiful, and grew indignant over his fancied
wrongs, as he lay back in discomfort on the stone step which he had
selected as his resting-place.

The night passed slowly away, and when the morning light came Martin got
up very stiff and sore, and more hungry than ever, and began to wonder
where he was likely to get any breakfast. Begging seemed to him, on the
whole, the easiest way of getting along; but it was too early for that.
After a while, however, the street began to be peopled, and he walked up
to a gentleman who was approaching, and, assuming a look which he
thought indicative of wretchedness, whined out, "Would you be willing to
help a poor man, sir?"

The gentleman stopped.

"So you are poor?" he said.

"Yes," said Martin, "I have been very unfortunate."

"Why don't you work?"

"I can't find any work to do," answered Martin.

"Haven't you got any friends to help you?"

"They've all turned against me," said Martin. "Even my own children have
turned me out of the house to shift for myself."

"How old are your children?" asked the other.

Martin hesitated, for this question was a little embarrassing.

"One of them is sixteen," he said.

"A son?"

"Yes."

"Did you support him, or did he support you?" was the natural inquiry.

"I supported him," said Martin; "but he's an undootiful, ungrateful
scamp, and--"

"Then it appears that he has relieved you from taking care of him, and
you have only yourself to provide for. It appears to me that you ought
to get along better than before."

"If I could get any work."

"What sort of work do you want to do?"

"If I had a few dollars I could set up in some light business."

"You will have to apply elsewhere for the money, my friend," said the
gentleman. "To be frank with you, your appearance doesn't speak in your
favor;" and he walked on.

"That's the way the rich and prosperous treat the poor," soliloquized
Martin, feeling that the whole world was in a conspiracy against him.
Those who undertake to live without work are very apt to arrive at such
conclusions.

Martin concluded, on the whole, that he wouldn't refer to being turned
out of his house next time, as it might lead to embarrassing questions.

He approached another gentleman, and began with the same appeal for
assistance.

"What's the matter? Can't you work?" was the reply.

"I've had a severe fit of sickness," said Martin, forcing a cough; "and
I'm very feeble. I