"Is it far ?" He sighed again, and surrendered.
"Only two blocks," he said.

"Let us hasten." Under the Bishop's guidance I learned something of my own neighborhood.
I had not dreamed such wretchedness and misery existed in it.

Of course, this was because I did not concern myself with charity.

I had become convinced that Ernest was right when he sneered at charity as a poulticing of an ulcer.

Remove the ulcer, was his remedy; give to the worker his product; pension as soldiers those who grow honorably old in their toil, and there will be no need for charity.