Was silent. A tear stood in his eye,
And he brushed it away; he would not cry.
“Here, mister,” he answered, “take it then;
If it’s yours, it’s yours; if it hadn’t been——”
A sob told all he would have said,
Of the hope so suddenly raised, now dead.
And then with a sigh, which volumes told,
He dropped the glittering piece of gold
Into the other’s hand. Once more
He sighed—and his dream of wealth was o’er.