“And vot have I cot to do mit all dis,” he enquired.

“You can give me the means of purchasing medicine for my sick child,” she replied.  “The amount thus bestowed cannot cause you any inconvenience, while it may be the means of saving life.”

“Dis never vill do,” Mr. Swartz said, interrupting her.  “My goot woman, you must go to somepody else, I can’t give away my monish.”

“You have got a plenty,” she persisted, “you are rich.  Oh, aid me!  If you believe there is a God above, who rewards the charitable, aid me, and receive the heartfelt blessings of a mother.  Twenty dollars will be enough to satisfy my present wants, and that sum will make but little difference to a man of your wealth.”

“Mine Cot!” he exclaimed, “If I make monish I work for it, and don’t go about begging.”

“I know that,” she answered, “and it is to the rich that the poor must appeal for assistance.  This has made me come to you this day.  Let my desire be realized.  Aid me in saving the life of my child who is now lying ill, and destitute of medical attendance.”

He could not appreciate her appeal, and he again refused.

“I can’t give you any ding,” he answered.

“There is a virtue which shines far more than all the gold you possess,” replied Mrs. Wentworth.  “It is in man what chastity is in a woman.  An act of charity ennobles man more than all the fame bestowed upon him for any other merit, and his reward is always commensurate with his works.  Let this virtue move you.  The ear of God cannot always be turned against my prayers to Him, and the hour must surely come, when my husband will be released from prison, and be enabled to repay any kindness you may show his wife and children.  Let me have the money I have asked you for.”  “Oh, sir!” she continued, falling on her knees before him, “believe the words I speak to you, and save my child from the hands of death.  But a short time ago I left her gasping for breath, with cold drops of perspiration resting on her brow, perhaps the marks of approaching dissolution.  She is very ill, and can only recover through proper treatment.  Place it in my power to call a physician and to procure medicines, and I shall never cease to bless you.”

He moved uneasily in his chair, and averted his head from where she was kneeling, not because he felt touched at her appeal, but because he felt annoyed at her importuning him for money.

“Here my voman,” he said at last.  “Here is von tollar pill, dat is all I can give you.”

She looked at the note in his extended hand, and felt the mockery.

“It will not do,” she answered.  “Let me have the amount I have asked you for.  You can spare it.  Do not be hardened.  Recollect it is to provide medicine for the sick.”

“I can’t do it,” he replied.  “You should be shankful for what you get.”

His motive in offering her the dollar, was not from a charitable feeling, it was only to get rid of a beggar.