Even in the coldest weather, a fire was never
kindled in the house till evening; for over its dying embers the solitary
man made his coffee the following morning. A basket of coal lasted him a
week, and he sifted the cinders as carefully as if he did not know where
to find a silver quarter to buy more fuel. He had nothing to do with his
neighbors, who really knew very little about him beyond what they could
see of his daily life. They were almost all working people, blessed with
steady employment; though they had not more than enough of this world's
goods, there was no actual poverty among them. They were respectable,
honest, and industrious; as Bernard said, not one of the dwellers in the
street would ever be suspected of being "mean enough to steal coal,"
unless indeed Stingy Willis.
II.
Gloomy days continued for the Farrells; yet the outside world never
dreamed of the straits to which they were reduced, for a spirit of worthy
independence and pardonable pride led them to keep their trouble to
themselves. Mrs. Farrell would have died, almost, rather than reveal
their need to any one; nothing save the cry of her children asking in
vain for bread would bring her to it.
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