WORKING FOR HIS DAILY BREAD.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XV, Issue IV, 27 July 1895, Page 120

WORKING FOR HIS DAILY BREAD.

The tramp slipped over the garden wall and cautiously approached the kitchen door. Pausing a moment before it he knocked timidly, and on the instant the cook appeared. ‘ Well,’ she asked with vehemence, ‘ what do you want ?’ ‘ More than is dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio,’ he replied, in softest cadence. * My name isn’t Horatio,’ she said with a cold stare. * Nor yet again, I fancy,’ he murmured, • is it Trilby, nor even Sweet Marie.*

* 1 said : •• What do yon want?'” she replied to this. * And I said : “ More than is dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio,” ’ he crooned to her, * but what 1 really want is something to eat.’ * How would a cake of soap strike you ?’ she sneered. * Inasmuch as you are a woman,’ he smiled, ‘if you threw it at me, it wouldn’t strike me at all.’ * Well, don’t be gay,’ she cautioned him. * Do I look like an object of gaiety ?' he asked, as he surveyed bis ragged habiliments with an eye of sadness. * Are you much hungry ?’ she asked in a kinder tone. * Oh, I am not so hungry as I may be this time next week, if all the ladies I meet are as cruel as you are,’ he said languorously, ‘ I suppose the ladies break their necks waiting on you,’ she said with great irony. * No,’ he answered in a reminiscent voice. * I can’t recall that any of them ever broke anything except their hearts, and that wasn’t waiting on me.' * No, you don’t say,’ she grinned. * No,’ he twittered, • it was waiting for me.’ * I like that,’ she said. * They didn't,’ be answered. * Now, look here,’ she began, in another key, * how would a barrel of champagne and a wash-tubful of terrapin fit your case.’ ‘ Well, really,’ he admitted, ‘ it hadn't occurred to me at all. This ain't heaven.* Then she went in and b: ought him out a platter of pie, and as be sat down on the step to eat it, he murmured to himself, * And still they say we don't have to work for our daily bread.