- end_line
- 4126
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:47:57.722Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 4041
- text
- stood, saying, in a clear voice, "Is the agent of the Seminole Widow and
Orphan Asylum within here?"
No one replied.
"Is there within here any agent or any member of any charitable
institution whatever?"
No one seemed competent to answer, or, no one thought it worth while
to.
"If there be within here any such person, I have in my hand two dollars
for him."
Some interest was manifested.
"I was called away so hurriedly, I forgot this part of my duty. With the
proprietor of the Samaritan Pain Dissuader it is a rule, to devote, on
the spot, to some benevolent purpose, the half of the proceeds of sales.
Eight bottles were disposed of among this company. Hence, four
half-dollars remain to charity. Who, as steward, takes the money?"
One or two pair of feet moved upon the floor, as with a sort of itching;
but nobody rose.
"Does diffidence prevail over duty? If, I say, there be any gentleman,
or any lady, either, here present, who is in any connection with any
charitable institution whatever, let him or her come forward. He or she
happening to have at hand no certificate of such connection, makes no
difference. Not of a suspicious temper, thank God, I shall have
confidence in whoever offers to take the money."
A demure-looking woman, in a dress rather tawdry and rumpled, here drew
her veil well down and rose; but, marking every eye upon her, thought it
advisable, upon the whole, to sit down again.
"Is it to be believed that, in this Christian company, there is no one
charitable person? I mean, no one connected with any charity? Well,
then, is there no object of charity here?"
Upon this, an unhappy-looking woman, in a sort of mourning, neat, but
sadly worn, hid her face behind a meagre bundle, and was heard to sob.
Meantime, as not seeing or hearing her, the herb-doctor again spoke, and
this time not unpathetically:
"Are there none here who feel in need of help, and who, in accepting
such help, would feel that they, in their time, have given or done more
than may ever be given or done to them? Man or woman, is there none such
here?"
The sobs of the woman were more audible, though she strove to repress
them. While nearly every one's attention was bent upon her, a man of the
appearance of a day-laborer, with a white bandage across his face,
concealing the side of the nose, and who, for coolness' sake, had been
sitting in his red-flannel shirt-sleeves, his coat thrown across one
shoulder, the darned cuffs drooping behind--this man shufflingly rose,
and, with a pace that seemed the lingering memento of the lock-step of
convicts, went up for a duly-qualified claimant.
"Poor wounded huzzar!" sighed the herb-doctor, and dropping the money
into the man's clam-shell of a hand turned and departed.
The recipient of the alms was about moving after, when the auburn-haired
gentleman staid him: "Don't be frightened, you; but I want to see those
coins. Yes, yes; good silver, good silver. There, take them again, and
while you are about it, go bandage the rest of yourself behind
something. D'ye hear? Consider yourself, wholly, the scar of a nose, and
be off with yourself."
Being of a forgiving nature, or else from emotion not daring to trust
his voice, the man silently, but not without some precipitancy,
withdrew.
"Strange," said the auburn-haired gentleman, returning to his friend,
"the money was good money."
"Aye, and where your fine knavery now? Knavery to devote the half of
one's receipts to charity? He's a fool I say again."
"Others might call him an original genius."
"Yes, being original in his folly. Genius? His genius is a cracked pate,
and, as this age goes, not much originality about that."
"May he not be knave, fool, and genius altogether?"
- title
- Chunk 3