You shall not starve. What do you want?"

"Well, now, I was jess a-thinkin' that one or two more pieces fur
dinner every day--every day----"

"Pie?"

"Yes, sir; pie. I was a-talkin' about pie."

"You shall certainly have it; but don't they give you any?"

"What? Pie?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well, they do give me some."

"Every day?"

"Yes, sir; every day."

"How much do they give you?"

"Pie?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'll tell you. About two pieces, I believe."

"Aren't you afraid that much more than that would make you sick?"

"Oh, well, now, I'm a-goin' to tell you about that, too, 'cause you
don't know about it. You see, I'm mostly used to gittin' sick, an' I
ain't mostly used to eatin' of pie." He spoke then, as he always spoke,
with the most impressive earnestness.

Baker had undergone a great change within the two months that had
passed over him at the hotel. Kindness had driven away the vacant look
in his eyes and his mind was stronger. He had found that for which his
meagre soul had yearned--a sympathizing heart and a friend. He was fat,
sleek, and strong. His old boots--the same as of yore, for he would not
abandon them--looked less foolish and seemed almost cheerful. Were they
not always in an atmosphere of gentleness and refinement, and did they
not daily tread the very ground pressed by the bravest and richest
boots in the land? It is true that they were often covered with slops
and chickens' feathers, but this served only to bring out in bolder
relief the elevating influences of a healthy morality and a generous
prosperity that environed them. There are many boots that would have
been spoiled by so sudden an elevation into a higher sphere of life;
but the good traits of Baker's boots were strengthened not only by a
rooting up of certain weaknesses, but also by the gaining of many good
qualities which proved beneficial; and to the full extent of their
limited capability did they appreciate the advantages which their
surroundings afforded, and looked up with humble gratitude whenever
they would meet a friend.

There were six hundred guests at the hotel, and they all knew Baker and
had a kind word to give him. But they could never learn anything about
him other than that his name was Baker--"jess Baker, that's all"--and
that he came from Georgia--"jess Georgy." Occasionally a stranger would
ask him with urgent particularity concerning his past history, but he
then would merely look helpless and puzzled