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A MAN FOE BREAKFAST: U7

they poison it thoroughly, and it dies : a miserable, contemptible community, all through that one bad man.

But the Doctor was neither of these. He had never yet found his place, had never yet taken root or hold anywhere, but had been blown or rolled or thrown or pitched or shuttle-cocked about, it seemed to me, from the beginning of his life ; whenever that may have been. A sort of sour, dried- up apple, that no one would eat, yet an apple that no one would care to pitch out of the window.

I had always hated and feared the man till now. The universal dislike, however, aroused a sort of antagonism in my nature, that always has, and I expect always will, come to the surface on such occasions on the side of the poor or much despised, perfectly regardless of propriety, self-interest, or any consideration whatever.

If a man has succeeded and is glad, let him go his way. What should I have to do with him? My lot and my life thus far have been with the poor and the lonely, and so shall be to the end. They can under stand me.

And maybe, often, there is a kind of subtle wisdom in this view of men. I think it is born of the fact that your ostentatious, prosperous man, your showy rich man of America, is so very, very poor, that you do not care to call him your neigh bour. It is true he has horses and houses, and land and gold, but these horses and houses, and