Yes, mother, I saw him too," said Ruth, with a demure look; "it
curiously enough happened that I was following you at the time. You
afterwards passed the same boy with a refusal, I suppose?"

"Yes, child, of course--and a reproof."

"I thought so. Well, after you had passed, he not only applied his left
thumb to his nose and spread his fingers, but also put the thumb of his
right hand against the little finger of his left, and spread out the
other five fingers at _you_. So, whatever he meant Lady Openhand to
receive, he meant you to have twice as much. But Lady Openhand makes a
mistake, I think, she does not _consider_ the poor; she only feels
deeply for them and gives to them."

"_Only_ feels and gives!" repeated Mrs Dotropy, with a look of solemn
amazement.

Being quite incapable of disentangling or expressing the flood of ideas
that overwhelmed her, the good lady relieved herself after a few broken
sentences, with the assertion that it was of no use arguing with Ruth,
for Ruth would never be convinced.

She was so far right, in that her daughter could not change her mind on
the strength of mere dogmatic assertion, even although she was a pliant
and teachable little creature. So, at least, Mr Lewis, her pastor, had
found her when he tried to impress on her a few important lessons--such
as, that it is better to give than to receive; that man _is_ his
brother's keeper; that we are commanded to walk in the footsteps of
Jesus, who came to save the lost, to rescue the perishing, and who fed
the hungry.

"But, mother," resumed Ruth, "I want you to go with me to-day to visit
some poor people who are _not_ troublesome, who are perfectly clean, are
never ill-natured, suspect nothing, and envy nobody."

"They must indeed be wonderful people," said Mrs Dotropy, with a laugh
at Ruth's enthusiasm, "quite angelic."

"They are as nearly so as mortals ever become, I think," returned Ruth,
putting on her hat; "won't you come, mother?"

Now, Mrs Dotropy had the faculty of giving in gracefully, although she
could not argue. Rising with an amused smile, she kissed Ruth's
forehead and went to prepare for a visit to the poor.

Let us now turn to a small street scarcely ten minutes' walk from the
mansion where the above conversation took place.

It was what may be styled a Lilliputian street. Almost everything in it
was small. The houses were small; the shops were small; the rents--
well, they were certainly not so smal