Голод

           Isnappedmyfingers,burstintoaloudlaughthatconfoundedthepassers-by,andsaid:"NowyoushalljustgotoLeviontheparson.Youshall,assureasdeath—ay,justforatry.Whathaveyougottolosebyit?anditissuchgloriousweather!"

           IenteredPascha’sbook-shop,foundPastorLevion’saddressinthedirectory,andstartedforit.

           Nowforit!saidI.Playnopranks.Conscience,didyousay?Norubbish,ifyouplease.Youaretoopoortosupportaconscience.Youarehungry;youhavecomeonimportantbusiness—thefirstthingneedful.Butyoushallholdyourheadaskew,andsetyourwordstoasing-song.Youwon’t!What?Wellthen,Iwon’tgoastepfarther.Doyouhearthat?Indeed,youareinasorelytemptedcondition,fightingwiththepowersofdarknessandgreatvoicelessmonstersatnight,sothatitisahorrortothinkof;youhungerandthirstforwineandmilk,anddon’tgetthem.Ithasgonesofarwithyou.Hereyoustandandhaven’tasmuchasahalfpennytoblessyourselfwith.Butyoubelieveingrace,theLordbepraised;youhaven’tyetlostyourfaith;andthenyoumustclaspyourhandstogether,andlookaverySatanofafellowforbelievingingrace.AsfarasMammonwasconcerned,why,youhatedMammonwithallitspompsinanyform.Nowit’squiteanotherthingwithapsalm-book—asouvenirtotheextentofafewshillings....Istoppedatthepastor’sdoor,andread,"Officehours,12to4.