18 THE POOR WOODCUTTER.

 

“You're doing nothing,” remarked Mr.
Edgar.

“Though I may get a job before night
worth a dollar, instead of a quarter.”

Mr. Edgar felt, as he looked at the man,
whose clothes were poor, and above whose
thin face masses of gray hair were visible,
that it was hardly generous to beat him
down so low for a job of work that it would
take him at least a couple of hours, if not
more, to perform, so he said—

“The wood is merely to be thrown into
+e vault beneath the pavement. If you
will pile it after it is in, Pll give you half
a-dollar.”

“Very well,” replied the man, «I will
do it.”

Mr. Edgar next obtained his bill from

the corder, and paying it, started home to
dinner.

It was nearly four o'clock when the wood
arrived. Half an hour afterward, Mr.
Edgar sat down in his parlour with one of
his children on his lap, and glanced out of