Phil hesitated, not knowing whether he was ordered out or not.
"Clear out of my store, I say!" said the grocer, harshly. "I
don't want you in here. Do you understand?"
At this moment a gentleman of prepossessing appearance entered
the store. He heard the grocer's last words, and their
inhumanity made him indignant.
"What do these boys want, Mr. Perkins?" he said.
"They want to spend their time in my shop. I have no room for
such vagabonds."
"We are cold," said Phil. "We only want to warm ourselves by the
fire."
"I don't want you here," said the grocer, irritably.
"Mr. Perkins," said the gentleman, sharply, "have you no
humanity? What harm can it do you to let these poor boys get
warm by your fire? It will cost you nothing; it will not
diminish your personal comfort; yet you drive them out into the
cold."
The grocer began to perceive that he was on the wrong tack. The
gentleman who addressed him was a regular and profitable
customer, and he did not like to incur his ill will, which would
entail loss.
"They can stay, Mr. Pomeroy," he said, with an ill grace, "since
you ask it."
"I do not ask it. I will not accept, as a personal favor, what
you should have granted from a motive of humanity, more
especially as, after this exhibition of your spirit, I shall not
trade here any longer.
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