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“It’s no use,” replied Mr. Jonas, in a positive tone of voice. “He’s an idle good-for-nothing fellow, and I’ll have nothing to do with him.”

Mr. Prescott urged the matter no farther, for he saw that to do so would be useless. On his way home, on leaving his store, he called to see Gardiner. He found, in two small, meagerly furnished rooms, a man, his wife, and three children. Everything about them indicated extreme poverty; and, worse than this, lack of cleanliness and industry. The woman and children had a look of health, but the man was evidently the subject of some wasting disease. His form was light, his face thin and rather pale, and his languid eyes deeply sunken. He was very far from being the able-bodied man Mr. Prescott had expected to find. As the latter stepped into the miserable room where they were gathered, the light of expectation, mingled with the shadows of mute suffering, came into their countenances. Mr. Prescott was a close observer, and saw, at a glance, the assumed sympathy-exciting face of the mendicant in each.

“You look rather poor here,” said he, as he took a chair, which the woman dusted with her dirty apron before handing it to him.

“Indeed, sir, and we are miserably off,” replied the woman, in a half whining tone. “John, there, hasn’t done a stroke of work now for three months; and–“

“Why not!” interrupted Mr. Prescott.

“My health is very poor,” said the man. “I suffer much from pain in my side and back, and am so weak most of the time, that I can hardly creep about.”

“That is bad, certainly,” replied Mr. Prescott, “very bad.” And as he spoke, he turned his eyes to the woman’s face, and then scanned the children very closely.

“Is that boy of yours doing anything?” he inquired.

“No, sir,” replied the mother. “He’s too young to be of any account.”

“He’s thirteen, if my eyes do not deceive me.”

“Just a little over thirteen.”

“Does he go to school?”

“No sir. He has no clothes fit to be seen in at school.”

“Bad–bad,” said Mr. Prescott, “very bad. The boy might be earning two dollars a week; instead of which he is growing up in idleness, which surely leads to vice.”

Gardiner looked slightly confused at this remark, and his wife, evidently, did not feel very comfortable under the steady, observant eyes that were on her.

“You seem to be in good health,” said Mr. Prescott, looking at the woman.

“Yes sir, thank God! And if it wasn’t for that, I don’t know what we should all have done. Everything has fallen upon me since John, there, has been ailing.”

Mr. Prescott glanced around the room, and then remarked, a little pleasantly:

“I don’t see that you make the best use of your health and strength.”

The woman understood him, for the color came instantly to her face.

“There is no excuse for dirt and disorder,” said the visitor, more seriously. “I once called to see a poor widow, in such a state of low health that she had to lie in bed nearly half of every day. She had two small children, and supported herself and them by fine embroidery, at which she worked nearly all the time. I never saw a neater room in my life than hers, and her children, though in very plain and patched clothing, were perfectly clean. How different is all here; and yet, when I entered, you all sat idly amid this disorder, and–shall I speak plainly–filth.”

The woman, on whose face the color had deepened while Mr. Prescott spoke, now rose up quickly, and commenced bustling about the room, which, in a few moments, looked far less in disorder. That she felt his rebuke, the visiter regarded as a good sign.

“Now,” said he, as the woman resumed her seat, “let me give you the best maxim for the poor in the English language; one that, if lived by, will soon extinguish poverty, or make it a very light thing,–‘God helps those who help themselves.’ To be very plain with you, it is clear to my eyes, that you do not try to help yourselves; such being the case, you need not expect gratuitous help from God. Last evening you received some coal and a basket of provisions from a kind-hearted man, who promised more efficient aid to-day. You have not yet heard from him, and what is more, will not hear from him. Some one, to whom he applied for a contribution happened to know more about you than he did, and broadly pronounced you a set of idle vagabonds. Just think of bearing such a character! He dropped the matter at once, and you will get nothing from him. I am one of those upon whom he called. Now, if you are all disposed to help yourselves, I will try to stand your friend. If not, I shall have nothing to do with you. I speak plainly; it is better; there will be less danger of apprehension. That oldest boy of yours must go to work and earn something. And your daughter can work about the house for you very well, while you go out to wash, or scrub, and thus earn a dollar or two, or three, every week. There will be no danger of starvation on this income, and you will then eat your bread in independence. Mr. Gardiner can help some, I do not in the least doubt.”