I was thus employed--that is, gaping
and staring at the windows of the lower flats of the houses on either
side of the street, for I did not recollect on which was the house I
wanted--when a smart little man, dressed in a blue surtout, with a black
stock about his neck, and carrying a cane in his hand, made up to me
with a--
"Looking for any particular place, my lad?"
Taken unawares, and not choosing to enter into any explanations with a
stranger, I simply answered, "No, no."
"Because if you were," continued my new acquaintance, "I should have
been glad to have helped you. But I say, my lad--excuse me," he went on,
now looking earnestly in my face, and perceiving by my eyes that I had
been weeping, which was indeed the case--"you seem to be distressed.
What has happened you? I don't ask from any impertinent curiosity, but
from sympathy, seeing you are a stranger."
Words of kindness in the hour of distress, by whomsoever offered, at
once find their way to the heart, and open up the sluices of its pent-up
feelings. The friendly address of the stranger had this effect on me in
the present instance. I told him at once what had occurred to me.
"Bad business, my lad; bad business indeed," he said. "But don't be cast
down. Fair weather comes after foul. You'll soon make all up again."
This was commonplace enough comfort; but without minding the words, the
intention was good, and with that I was gratified.
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