Blade-O'-Grass. Golden Grain. and Bread and Cheese and Kisses.Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
General
Blade-O'-Grass. Golden Grain. and Bread and Cheese and Kisses.
Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
Christmas stories; Fiction
ROBERT TRUEFIT. Not I; I don't disapprove of a man putting his
hand into his pocket and exercising a benevolent impulse. Your
lip-philanthropists, who preach against indiscriminate charity--what
would they do for Blade-o'-Grass? What _would_ they do! What _do_ they
do? 'Work,' they say. But they don't? give her work; don't even teach
her how to work, if such a miracle happened to fall in her way. And
all the while the policeman says, 'Move on.' I know something, through
Jimmy here, of Blade-o'-Grass--a hapless waif, an encumbrance, a blot,
serving as a theme for countless meetings and oceans of words. What
business has she in the world? But she came, unfortunately for
herself, and she is so legislated for, that to live is her greatest
affliction.
JIMMY VIRTUE. It's my opinion that a good many of the fellers who
preach agin indiscriminate charity only do so as an excuse for
buttonin' up their pockets.
ROBERT TRUEFIT [_laughing_]. And their hearts as well, Jimmy. You put
me in mind of something I saw last Sunday in Upper-street, Islington.
The people were coming out of church. A couple--evidently man and
wife-were walking before me, talking on religious matters--or, rather,
he was talking, and she was listening. I passed them just as he was
saying, 'If I haven't got the grace of God in my heart, I'd like to
know who _has_ got it?' and at the same moment as forlorn-looking a
woman as ever I set eyes on, intercepted him, and curtseyed, and held
out her hand imploringly. He pushed her aside surlily and with a sour
look on his face; and walked along talking of the grace of God. The
woman may have been an impostor--in other words, a professional
beggar; but I should be sorry to call that Grace-of-God man my friend.
No, sir, I don't think that it is a good thing to crush a kindly
impulse, or that we should treat our best feelings and emotions as so
many figures in a sum. It is not the giver who makes beggars. The
fault is in the system, which opens no road for them at the proper
time of their lives.
Mr. MERRYWHISTLE [_sadly_]. But tell me: do you see no remedy for
these ills?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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