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e details。 Some say there is enjoyment in looking back to painful experience past; but at this day I can scarcely bear to review the times to which I allude: the moral degradation; blent with the physical suffering; form too distressing a recollection ever to be willingly dwelt on。 I blamed none of those who repulsed me。 I felt it was what was to be expected; and what could not be helped: an ordinary beggar is frequently an object of suspicion; a well…dressed beggar inevitably so。 To be sure; what I begged was employment; but whose business was it to provide me with employment? Not; certainly; that of persons who saw me then for the first time; and who knew nothing about my character。 And as to the woman who would not take my handkerchief in exchange for her bread; why; she was right; if the offer appeared to her sinister or the exchange unprofitable。 Let me condense now。 I am sick of the subject。

A little before dark I passed a farm…house; at the open door of which the farmer was sitting; eating his supper of bread and cheese。 I stopped and said—

“Will you give me a piece of bread? for I am very hungry。” He cast on me a glance of surprise; but without answering; he cut a thick slice from his loaf; and gave it to me。 I imagine he did not think I was a beggar; but only an eccentric sort of lady; who had taken a fancy to his brown loaf。 As soon as I was out of sight of his house; I sat down and ate it。

I could not hope to get a lodging under a roof; and sou

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