hen a young man clutched me by the hand.

"Let me get off, my lad!" I cried, sharply. "I'm late for the 'Pav.'
the noo! Wait till anither nicht----"

"All right, 'Arry," he said, not a bit abashed. "I vas just so glad to
know you vas doing so vell in business. You're a countryman of mine,
and I'm proud o' you!"

Late though I was, I had to laugh at that. He was an unmistakable Jew,
and a Londoner at that. But I asked him, as I got into my car, to what
country he thought we both belonged.

"Vy! I'm from Glasgow!" he said, much offended. "Scotland forever!"

So far as I know the young man had no ulterior motive in claiming to
be a fellow Scot. But to do that has aye been a favorite trick of
cadgers and beggars. I mind weel a time when I was leaving a hall, and
a rare looking bird collared me. He had a nose that showed only too
plainly why he was in trouble, and a most unmistakably English voice.
But he'd taken the trouble to learn some Scots words, though the
accent was far ayant him.

"Eh, Harry, man," he said, jovially. "Here's the twa o' us, Scots far
frae hame. Wull ye no lend me the loan o' a twopence?"

"Aye," I said, and gi'ed it him. "But you a Scot! No fear! A Scot wad
ha' asked me for a tanner--and got it, tae!"

He looked very thoughtful as he stared at the two broad coppers I left
on his itching palm. He was reflecting, I suppose, on the other
fourpence he might ha' had o' me had he asked them! But doubtless he
soon spent what he did get in a pub.

There were many times, though, and are still, when puir folk come to
me wi' a real tale o' bad luck or misfortune to tell. It's they who
deserve it the most are most backward aboot asking for a loan; that
I've always found. It's a sair thing to decide against geevin' help;
whiles, though, you maun feel that to do as a puir body asks is the
worst thing for himsel'.

I mind one strange and terrible thing that came to me. It was in
Liverpool, after I'd made my London success--long after. One day,
while I was restin' in my dressing room, word was brocht to me that a
bit lassie who looked as if she micht be in sair trouble wad ha' a
word wi' me. I had her up, and saw that she was a pretty wee creature
--no more than eighteen. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes a deep blue,
and very large, and she had lovely, curly hair. But it took no verra
keen een to see she was in sair trouble indeed. She had been greetin'
not sae lang syne, and her een were red and swollen fr