Had I not been ashamed, I should have washed the grime off his face with tears of thankfulness. Had I not been afraid of my wife, I should have led him home as my own child. He is there—I am not his murderer!
Well!
And I held out a ten kopek piece.
He takes it wondering; he does not know what a kindness he has done me.
Long life to him!
And next day, when he begged me for another groschen, I did not give it him, but this time I uttered no word of reproof—what is more, I went away ashamed, not satisfied with myself.
I can really and truly not afford it, but my heart is sore: why can I not afford it?
———
My grandfather, on whom be peace, was not so far wrong when he used to say:
"Whoever is not pious, lives in sorrow of heart and dies without consolation."