, miss,' serves but to increase her pain.
A great philosopher has stated that the worst evil of poverty is, that
it makes folks ridiculous; by which, I hope, he only means that, as in
the above case, it places them in incongruous positions. The man, or
woman, who derives amusement from the lack of means of a
fellow-creature, would jeer at a natural deformity, be cruel to
children, and insult old age. Such people should be whipped and then
hanged. Nevertheless there are certain little pinches of poverty so
slight, that they tickle almost as much as they hurt the victim. A lady
once told me (interrupting herself, however, with pleasant bursts of
merriment) that as a young girl her allowance was so small that when she
went out to spend the evening at a friend's, her promised pleasure was
darkened by the presentiment (always fulfilled) that the cabman was sure
to charge her more than the proper fare. The extra expense was really of
consequence to her, but she never dared dispute it, because of the
presence of the footman who opened the door.
Some young ladies--quite as lady-like as any who roll in
chariots--cannot even afford a cab. 'What _I_ call the pinch of
poverty,' observed an example of this class, 'is the waiting for omnibus
after omnibus on a wet afternoon and finding them all full.'
'But surely,' I replied with gallantry, 'any man would have given up his
seat to you?'
She shook her head with a smile that had very little fun in it. 'People
in omnibuses,' she said, 'don't give up their seats to others.' Nor, I
am bound to confess, do they do so elsewhere; if I had been in their
place, perhaps I should have been equally selfish; though I do think I
should have made an effort, in this instance at least, to make room for
her close beside me.[4]
[4] There is, however, some danger in this. I remember reading of
some highly respectable old gentleman in the City who thus
accommodated on a wet day a very nice young woman in humble
circumstances. She was as full of apologies as of rainwater, and
he of good-natured rejoinders, intended to put her at her ease; so
that he became, in a Platonic and paternal way, quite friendly
with her by the time she arrived at her destination--which
happened to be his own door. She turned out to be his new cook,
which was afterwards very embarrassing.
A young governess whom some wicked fairy endowed at her birth with
the sensitiveness often denie
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