It was one of the directors of our county
almshouse, who came on an errand to which he attached no great
importance. I owed the visit, apparently, to the circumstance that
my home lay in his way, and he could at once relieve his
conscience of a very trifling pressure and his pocket of a small
package, by calling upon me. His story was told in a few words;
the package was placed upon my table, and I was again left to my
meditations.
Two or three days before, a man who had the appearance of a "tramp"
had been observed by the people of a small village in the
neighborhood. He stopped and looked at the houses in a vacant way,
walked back and forth once or twice as if uncertain which of the
cross-roads to take, and presently went on without begging or even
speaking to any one. Towards sunset a farmer, on his way to the
village store, found him sitting at the roadside, his head resting
against a fence-post. The man's face was so worn and exhausted
that the farmer kindly stopped and addressed him; but he gave no
other reply than a shake of the head.
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