“It seems to me, Mr. Colman,” remarked the cooper soberly, “you have chosen rather a singular time for raising the rent.”
“Why singular, my good sir?” inquired the landlord, urbanely.
“You know of course, that this is a time of general business depression; my own trade in particular has suffered greatly. For a month past, I have not been able to find any work.”
Colman's face lost something of its graciousness.
“And I fear I sha'n't be able to pay my quarter's rent to-morrow.”
“Indeed!” said the landlord coldly. “Perhaps you can make it up within two or three dollars?”
“I can't pay a dollar towards it,” said the cooper. “It's the first time, in five years that I've lived here, that this thing has happened to me. I've always been prompt before.”
“You should have economized as you found times growing harder,” said Colman, harshly. “It is hardly honest to live in a house when you know you can't pay the rent.”
“You sha'n't lose it Mr. Colman,” said the cooper, earnestly. “No one ever yet lost anything by me. Only give me time, and I will pay you all.”
The landlord shook his head.