on the point of crying and said:

"I beg you will excuse...."

"Pray, sit down," he repeated. And I sat down, and explained that I
again had an article which I was extremely anxious to get into his
paper. I had taken such pains with it; it had cost me much effort.

"I will read it," said he, and he took it. "Everything you write is
certain to cost you effort, but you are far too impetuous; if you could
only be a little more sober. There's too much fever. In the meantime, I
will read it," and he turned to the table again.

There I sat. Dared I ask for a shilling? explain to him why there was
always fever? He would be sure to aid me; it was not the first time.

I stood up. Hum! But the last time I was with him he had complained
about money, and had sent a messenger out to scrape some together for
me. Maybe it might be the same case now. No; it should not occur! Could
I not see then that he was sitting at work?

Was there otherwise anything? he inquired.

"No," I answered, and I compelled my voice to sound steady. "About how
soon shall I call in again?"

"Oh, any time you are passing--in a couple of days or so."

I could not get my request over my lips. This man's friendliness seemed
to me beyond bounds, and I ought to know how to appreciate it. Rather
die of hunger! I went. Not even when I was outside the door, and felt
once more the pangs of hunger, did I repent having left the office
without having asked for that shilling. I took the other shaving out of
my pocket and stuck it into my mouth. It helped. Why hadn't I done so
before? "You ought to be ashamed of yourself," I said aloud. "Could it
really have entered your head to ask the man for a shilling and put him
to inconvenience again?" and I got downright angry with myself for the
effrontery of which I had almost been guilty. "That is, by God! the
shabbiest thing I ever heard," said I, "to rush at a man and nearly
tear the eyes out of his head just because you happen to need a
shilling, you miserable dog! So--o, march! quicker! quicker! you big
thumping lout; I'll teach you." I commenced to run to punish myself,
left one street after the other behind me at a bound, goaded myself on
with suppressed cries, and shrieked dumbly and furiously at myself
whenever I was about to halt. Thus I arrived a long way up Pyle Street,
when at last I stood still, almost ready to cry with vexation at not
being able to run any farther. I was trembling over my whole body, and
I