for the bread for their mouths and mine. I am
proud of them—yes, proud of what they did and
suffered for one poorer than themselves—a little
foundling out of an Indian camp. But I know
the difference between you and me. You are a
great man at home—you have never told me how
great—but I know your father is a rich lord, and I
suppose you are. It is not that I think you care
for that, or think less of me because I was born
different from you. I know how good—how