These gentlemen for some time had been allowing me to exist in
peace, and I had been showing my gratitude by buying them whatever
little dainties they desired, but such a comfortable state of affairs
could not long continue with that bunch. Suddenly, without any
previous consultation, as if drawn together as it were by some
fiendish undercurrent, they decided to make me unhappy--me, the only
guy that spoke unbroken English in the crowd. This is the way they
accomplished their low ends. When the next civilian came along they
all of them shouted at me in tones that could be heard by all
passers-by:
"Here comes a 'ciwilian,' buddy; he'll give you a quarter."
"Do you need some money, my boy?" said the old gentleman to me in a
kindly voice.
"No, sir," I stammered, getting red all over, "thank you very much,
but I really don't need any money."
Ironical laughter from my friends in the background.
"Oh, no," cries Tim sarcastically, "he don't need no money. Just watch
him when he sees the color of it."
"Don't hesitate, my son," continued the kind old man, "if you need
anything I would be glad to help you out."
"No, sir," I replied, turning away to hide my mortification,
"everything is all right.
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