TRAMP. No, ma’m. I’ve done without a home for several moons. So I’m used to it, but it’s tough on those who get it sudden. HORACE. I’m interested in this man. I showed him scant courtesy this evening, and felt sorry for him afterwards. We met again at the fire. He is an inventor, moreover. TRAMP. Ah, Guv’ner, if they had only had my fire-escape there would have been no killed. HORACE. Have you an idea for a fire-escape? By Jove, we’ll patent it! Meanwhile—— TRAMP. Will you give me the job of cleaning the snow from your front walks? HORACE. Yes, and I will pay you in advance. TRAMP. Needn’t do that, Guv. AUNT. You will find a shovel in the coal shed, if not—— HORACE. A bit of board will do. TRAMP. Shovel’s best, Guv’ner—— HORACE. I mean, of course—oh, yes, a shovel, by all means. The servants are up, and if you don’t object to eating before retiring, for there’s no hurry about the snow—— TRAMP. I doesn’t object. AUNT. Will you show him the way to the kitchen, Minnie? TRAMP. Minnie? Is that her name? AUNT. Why, yes. TRAMP. I’m looking for a daughter of that name. HORACE. Who were Minnie’s parents, Aunt? Do you know? Can it be possible that—— TRAMP. That this young lady is mine? Lor’, no, Guv’ner! My daughter would only be about twelve years old. HORACE. Why, you said she was the image of your—— TRAMP. Me? Never, Guv’ner. Never saw this lady before. HORACE. Not you, no, I remember. It was someone else. AUNT. Your mother knew both Minnie’s parents. Her father was a clergyman. TRAMP. And I ain’t exactly. MINNIE. I am sure you have a brave as well as a kind heart, for I have heard from others what risks you took in carrying them out. HORACE. Well, take a substantial supper—or breakfast, whichever it may be called—and presently we’ll clear that snow off together. (_Exit TRAMP with MINNIE R._) AUNT. What do you mean by clearing the snow together? HORACE. I fancy the exercise will stimulate thought. AUNT. My dear Horace, I am truly ashamed of the abuse I heaped upon you this evening. Do forgive me. HORACE. Why, Aunt, I’m sure I had well earned it. AUNT. What a noble reproof you have administered by this turning of your house into a common lodging place, you who so dislike being disturbed, and I thought abominated the lower class. I’m afraid I should have hesitated long before I invited them in. HORACE. Not if you had seen them as I did. Oh, Auntie, why have we so little Otherdom? AUNT. Other—what, dear? HORACE. That is, philanthropy, benevolence, altruism. AUNT. I am sure you have done your full share to-night. HORACE. It can only be because we never realize how the poor live. In the wise days of old, when men were nearer nature, fast days were instituted, that the Fat might remember the Lean. Now our Fasts are feasts. I wonder what a bonafide all-round forty-eight hour starve, once a year even, would do for our rich friends. Make that a fad, Auntie. You’d revolutionize the world.