o rid themselves of this
motley troop, L'Isle and Mrs. Shortridge threw each of them a small
coin. They were not so easily satisfied, but thrusting themselves
among the horses, continued to rival each other in whining petitions
and adjurations of their favorite saints. Lady Mabel, who had emptied
her purse of small coin the evening before, now entreated Moodie to
let this second opportunity of alms-giving, so manifestly sent for his
benefit, soften his stony heart. But he shook his head grimly, saying:
"If they are strong enough to travel, they are strong enough to work;
and work they shall, or starve, before they touch a penny of mine!"

L'Isle's short tempered groom, availing himself of the impatience of a
thirsty horse, now turned his about, at once spurring and reining him
in, which made him lash out his heels at the intruders near him. The
other steeds seemed to catch this infectious restiveness, and the
beggars were driven to a safer distance. Their horses now could drink
in peace of the water stirred up and muddied by their mendicant
friends, whom they presently left behind them, without further heeding
their continued and vociferous appeals. One stout ragged fellow put
himself in their way, and displayed to their eyes a flaming picture,
painted on a board, depicting the torments of the souls in
purgatory. But the travelers were in a hurry, and unmoved at the
sight, left the souls in unmitigated tortures there.

"What we have just seen," said L'Isle to the ladies, "may convince you
that beggars are a formidable class in this country. They ramble
about, and infest every place, not entreating charity, but demanding
it. They often assemble at night in hordes, at the best country house
they can find, and taking up their abode in one of the out-buildings,
call for whatever they want, like travelers at an inn; and here they
claim the right of tarrying three days, if they like it. When a gang
of these sturdy fellows meets a traveler on the highway, he must offer
them money; and it sometimes happens that the amount of the offering
is not left to his own discretion. St. Anthony assails him on one
side, St. Francis on the other. Having satisfied their clamor in
behalf of these favorite saints, he is next attacked for the honor of
the Virgin; and thus they rob him, for the love of God."

"I wonder," Mrs. Shortridge said, "the nation tolerates such a
nuisance."

"There are laws for its abatement," answered L'Isle. "John