. Zigzag journeys in the White city. With visits to the neighboring metropolis . towhisper to me: Here is your luck, make the most of it. Stranger, there wasonce a time when I would have no such temptation if I d gone into an emptyshop with an open drawer of uncounted dollars. I saw the balls of butter in the cool corner of the store. I seized conscience began to burn, and I threw water upon it by saying: I 11 payfor it at some other time ! Men cool conscience in that way. The storekeeper came back with a queer look on his face. He did notappear natral. He was too friendly. He made me s
. Zigzag journeys in the White city. With visits to the neighboring metropolis . towhisper to me: Here is your luck, make the most of it. Stranger, there wasonce a time when I would have no such temptation if I d gone into an emptyshop with an open drawer of uncounted dollars. I saw the balls of butter in the cool corner of the store. I seized conscience began to burn, and I threw water upon it by saying: I 11 payfor it at some other time ! Men cool conscience in that way. The storekeeper came back with a queer look on his face. He did notappear natral. He was too friendly. He made me sit down close to the could feel my heart beat under my coat. When a person is dealing unfairwith you, you feel it in the air. I could feel in the air that something waswrong. Well, the stove roared; it turned red. The place was close, and I wasso nervous that I began to perspire. Then all at once — how the thing struckme like a death-shot! — the butter began to melt. I could feel it tricklingdown my hair, and dropping into my back. I thought of the old hymn about. FOLK-LORE TALES IN THE OLD COLONIAL KITCHEN. 215 the holy oil and Aarons beard. I wished that the butter in my hat was likethat. I hoped still that the storekeeper did not suspect me, but I felt that hedid. The butter was shaping itself to my head. I dared not take off my wondered if the butter were soaking through it. I tried to move back, butthere was no room. Then I felt the oil creeping down the back of my would soon flow over my forehead. I leaped up; I said: I must go — Iaint well — let me out — I must go. But the storekeeper stood before me, andmade me sit down again. Had I been right and strong within, I could nothave done it. But a conscience-stung man will do anything, — he is a coward,and his heart is wax. I sat down, with a feeling as though I was stifled. The butter kept onmelting; it ran down over my face, and I wiped it off with my mittens andcomforter. I never before d
Size: 1363px × 1832px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectworldsc, bookyear1894
