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-- A Panorama of Misery.
Skinadre, thin and mealy, with his coat off, but wearing a waistcoat to which were attached flannel sleeves, was busily engaged in his agreeable task of administering to their necessities.

Such was his smoothness of manner, and the singular control which a long life of hypocrisy had given him over his feelings, that it was impossible to draw any correct distinction between that which he only assumed, and that which he really felt.

This consequently gave him an immense advantage over every one with whom he came in contact, especially the artless and candid, and all who were in the habit of expressing what they thought.

We shall, however, take the liberty of introducing him to the reader, and allow honest Skinadre to speak for himself.
"They're beggars--them three--that woman and her two children; still my heart bleeds for them, bekase we should love our neighbors as ourselves; but I have given away as much meal in charity, an' me can so badly afford it, as would--I can't now, indeed, my poor woman! Sick--troth they look sick, an' you look sick yourself.