"'Your boots are worn out, Sophy.'
"'There's 'ardly any sole to 'em,' remarked Sophy.
"'Would a pair of those fit you?'
"'Oh, come along. I don't want to be made game of.'
"'I am not doing so, Sophy,' said our reporter, slipping three half-crowns into her hand. 'Go in, and buy the nicest pair you can; and mind they fit you properly.'
"Sophy raised her eyes to his face, and our reporter observed, without making any remark thereon, that they were quite pretty eyes, large, and of a beautiful shade of brown, and now with a soft light in them. She went into the shop silently, and returned, radiant and grateful, shod as a human being ought to be.
"'Do yer like 'em?' she asked, putting one foot on the ledge of the shop window.
"'They look very nice,' he said. 'I hope they're a good fit?'
"'They're proper. 'Ere's yer change, and I'm ever so much obliged to yer.'
"The words were commonplace, but her voice was not. There was in it a note of tearful gratefulness which was abundant payment for an act of simple kindness. Utilitarians and political economists may smile at our statement that we owe the poor a great deal, and that but for them we should not enjoy some of the sweetest emotions by which the human heart can be stirred."