He was a man of humble dress and humble mien, and when he entered the
parlor of the rich manufacturer he was obviously dazed by the upholstery
and the pictures—especially the upholstery. He had to wait ten minutes
before the lord of the mansion appeared—a pompous man with an expanse
of shirt, waistcoat and watchchain that were imposing, and a couple of
whiskers that bristled in uncompromising pride. He looked at the meek
figure seated on the edge of the least expensive chair, with a slight
expression of scorn and irritation, and grunted, “Well, sir?”
“You must excuse me for coming,” said the diffident one, “but I wish
to speak to you on a matter that is of the most vital importance to
yourself.”
“What! Are the hands going to strike again? D—n them!”
“Oh, sir, please do not use such language. I have recently been
discouraged from using it myself, and it does hurt my feelings so! I beg
that you will not employ those terms, at least, in my presence.”
“What in the devil”——
“There you are again, sir, if you please. Don’t, I beg of you.”
“Well, go on.”
The visitor sank his voice to a thrilling undertone: “I am told that you
have wine on your table.”
“Of course I have. What of it?”
“Beware of it, sir. There is death in the glass.”
“Those infernal, beg your pardon, mill hands, I’ll bet.”
“No, sir, not that. It is the wine itself. Keep to water. It isn’t very
good just now, but you can filter it, or use it for tea.”
“Bah!”
“Oh, do not bah at it, sir. I’m pleading for your good. Again, I am
informed that you smoke. Stop it, please, at once.”
“What! Even my cigars poisoned? This is horrible.”
“Tobacco is itself a poison, sir. Again, you were not at church last
Sunday. Nor at prayer meeting on Friday night. I am told that you made no
contribution last month for foreign missions. I am credibly informed that
you have had no Bible readings in your house for years. There is a rumor
that you belong to a club, and that you once played poker there.”
The millionaire, who had been growing crimson, now turned purple; his
waistcoat inflated, his whiskers were like quills on the porcupine. He
glared and sputtered, but could find no words.
“Then, too,” resumed the visitor in a meek tone, “I hear that you
patronize theaters, and have even been to the opera; that you permit
your family to spend large sums on trivial entertainments and personal
adornment; that the amount you wasted on dinners last winter would have
repaired the alms-house; that you never visit the hospitals and jails;
that if you keep on in this selfish and wasteful course you are likely to
become a nuisance to the neighborhood and a burden on the public; that”——
The rich man found his voice in a roar: “You audacious scoundrel! Get out
of this, or I’ll kill you. How dare you come here and lecture me in my
own house?” And overcome by wrath he fell into an arm chair and hissed.
“It’s strange that it doesn’t work both ways,” continued the meek one,
reflectively, “Your wife and daughter called on me yesterday in the
interests of the East Side Charitable Interference Society, of which
you are president. They made me see the error of my course, and I was
actuated only by a hope of accomplishing your moral improvement by coming
here. For is not wine worse than beer? Are not perfectos more injurious
to the health than pipes? Is not poker more expensive than pinocle? Is
not your club more luxurious than the Peter H. Milligan Association,
of which I used to be floor manager? Isn’t it as bad for you to go to
theaters and stay away from prayers as it is for me? Oh, brother, let
me plead with you to have more faith—to exercise more the gifts of the
spirit. Let me”——
At this point the millionaire struggled out of an impending fit of
apoplexy and threw a chair at the meek man, who escaped. And the East
Side Charitable Interference Society never called on him again. It gave
him up as a hopeless case.