The next time she went she had a friend with her, who was, I imagine, more or less thrilled by the notion of approaching the bad, bold city,--she was from out of town.

The shopkeeper was out in the back garden dressed in blue overalls and shirt, hoeing vigorously.
"Is this the heart of Bohemia ?" demanded the astonished provincial.
After their purchases were made and done up, they wanted twine.

Don't forget, please, that this was a shop.
"Twine ?" murmured the picturesque proprietor gently.

"Of course I should have some; I must remember to get some twine!" The sympathies are always ready there, the pennies too, when there are any! A lame man, a sick woman, a little child, a forlorn dog or cat,--they have only to go and sit on the steps of one of those blessed studio buildings, to receive pity, help and cheer.

And--ye gods!--isn't the fact well known! And isn't it taken advantage of, just! The swift, unreasoning charity of these Bohemians is so well recognised that it is a regular graft for the unscrupulous.
But they keep right on being cheated right and left; thank heaven, they will never learn to be wiser! This difference between the Village view and the conventional standpoint is very difficult to analyse.