e　details。　Some　say　there　is　enjoyment　in　looking　back　to　painful　experience　past；　but　at　this　day　I　can　scarcely　bear　to　review　the　times　to　which　I　allude：　the　moral　degradation；　blent　with　the　physical　suffering；　form　too　distressing　a　recollection　ever　to　be　willingly　dwelt　on。　I　blamed　none　of　those　who　repulsed　me。　I　felt　it　was　what　was　to　be　expected；　and　what　could　not　be　helped：　an　ordinary　beggar　is　frequently　an　object　of　suspicion；　a　well…dressed　beggar　inevitably　so。　To　be　sure；　what　I　begged　was　employment；　but　whose　business　was　it　to　provide　me　with　employment？　Not；　certainly；　that　of　persons　who　saw　me　then　for　the　first　time；　and　who　knew　nothing　about　my　character。　And　as　to　the　woman　who　would　not　take　my　handkerchief　in　exchange　for　her　bread；　why；　she　was　right；　if　the　offer　appeared　to　her　sinister　or　the　exchange　unprofitable。　Let　me　condense　now。　I　am　sick　of　the　subject。

A　little　before　dark　I　passed　a　farm…house；　at　the　open　door　of　which　the　farmer　was　sitting；　eating　his　supper　of　bread　and　cheese。　I　stopped　and　said—

“Will　you　give　me　a　piece　of　bread？　for　I　am　very　hungry。”　He　cast　on　me　a　glance　of　surprise；　but　without　answering；　he　cut　a　thick　slice　from　his　loaf；　and　gave　it　to　me。　I　imagine　he　did　not　think　I　was　a　beggar；　but　only　an　eccentric　sort　of　lady；　who　had　taken　a　fancy　to　his　brown　loaf。　As　soon　as　I　was　out　of　sight　of　his　house；　I　sat　down　and　ate　it。

I　could　not　hope　to　get　a　lodging　under　a　roof；　and　sou