He got more water at a fountain and felt better. He went down one of the poorer streets where a man was opening a shop. There was food in the window--fruit and bread--and the sight made him ravenous. But he asked for work and the man shook his head. Samuel went on. Shops were opened here and there; and everywhere he asked for a job--for any little thing to do--and always it was No. Now and then he caught a whiff of some one's breakfast--bacon frying, and coffee or hot bread in a bake shop. But each time he gripped his hands together and set his teeth. He would not beg. He would find work. And so on through the morning. He went into stores, big and little. Sometimes they answered politely--sometimes gruffly; but no one hesitated a moment. He went past warehouses, where men were loading wagons--surely there would be work here. He spoke to a busy foreman in his shirt sleeves. “How often must I tell you no?” cried the man. “But you never told me before,” protested Samuel with great earnestness. “Get out!” said the man. “There are so many of you--how the devil can I tell?” There were so many! And suddenly Samuel realized that he had passed a good many poor-looking men upon the streets. And were they all hunting jobs and not finding them? Perhaps some were even begging and getting nothing by that. He went on with a blank terror in his soul. He gazed at the people he passed on the street; some of them had kindly faces--surely they would have helped him had they known. But there was no way for him to let them know--no way but to be a beggar! He came to the suburbs and asked at the houses. But no one wanted anything done. It was noon and people were at luncheon--he caught odors as doors were opened. He went back into the city, because he could not stand it. He was feeling weaker, and he was afraid with a ghastly fear. Pretty soon he might not be able to work! It was a new idea to Samuel, that a man might starve in the midst of civilization. He could hardly believe it, and grew half-delirious as he thought about it. What would happen at the end? Would they let him lie down and die in the street? Or was there some place where starving men went to die? So the day passed, and he found nothing. Several people advised him to get out of town--this was no place to look for work, they said. Apparently something was the matter with the place, but they did not stop to tell him what.