A first-class beggar like Brum would scorn to mention such little difficulties as these, and I know well that all good beggars will despise me for raising such paltry objections. But even Brum himself has given way before people that were not regarded as beggars; even he had to give way--not out of spite or ill-will, but through his kindness or generosity. One day, when we were both out begging, Brum surprised me with these words--"One beggar is quite enough in this street; let us go to another." I was quite surprised at these words, for I knew well that Brum would not have budged an inch if there were a dozen beggars in the street. But what surprised me more was that when I looked before and behind, I could not see anyone that could be mistaken for a beggar. "I don't see anyone," I said at last, looking at him for an explanation. "Don't you?" he asked. "Well, there she is, and good luck to her!" And to my astonishment he nodded towards a Sister of Charity. It would never have occurred to me to regard such a person as a beggar, but she certainly was; and it proved how kind-hearted and considerate Brum was to give way to her, so that she might have every opportunity to get what the street was worth. I ought not to have been surprised to hear Brum say these words, for I had often heard him at the camps and elsewhere laud a certain Christian leader as "the greatest beggar that ever lived." To Brum this man was a perfect hero, whose prowess amazed him. Brum followed his career with as much interest as any man ever followed the doings of Napoleon; and every scrap of paper that came to hand, on which he saw the name of this Christian leader, was read and re-read by Brum, and commented on daily. In fact, Brum was never without two or three pieces of paper relating to "the greatest beggar that ever lived." "He does not beg a needle, a piece of thread, a cake, a sandwich, a pair of stockings, or a shirt," Brum would say, glancing with scorn at other beggars in the camp; "he knows nothing about our petty ways of doing business: he begs shiploads of provisions, wardrobes of clothes; aye, acres of land and barrels of money. And this man is an Englishman," Brum would add, with a slight sneer at any American beggars who happened to be present. The latter had to admit that their country had not yet produced so great a beggar. Curly Jack, of England, had never met Brum and never heard of him, but he was of exactly the same opinion; but whereas Brum admired the man as a hero, Curly Jack abused him for his success. Whereas Brum was as delighted as a child to see his hero's banner in charge of a trusty officer, and to hear the band--Curly Jack no sooner saw or heard, than he slunk off in an opposite direction, scowling and muttering curses. One Sunday morning Curly Jack and myself were in Northampton, and we had left the lodging-house together; after which we parted, he going down one street, while I went farther on, so as to give him plenty of room.