"This is the matter," he resumed, "I have been told that a poor fellow, a former house-painter, an old man of seventy, who naturally can work no more, is dying of hunger in a hovel in the Rue des Saules.

So, my dear child, I thought of you.

I thought you would consent to take him these three francs from me, so that he may at least have some bread to eat for a few days." "But why don't you take him your alms yourself ?" At this Abbe Rose again grew anxious, and cast vague, frightened glances about him.

"Oh, no, oh, no!" he said, "I can no longer do that after all the worries that have befallen me.

You know that I am watched, and should get another scolding if I were caught giving alms like this, scarcely knowing to whom I give them.