Why couldn't he let them make cloth for
themselves?"
"Samuel!" protested the other. "That is absurd!"
"But why, sir?"
"Because, my boy--in a day they could make more than they could wear
in a year."
"So much the better, doctor! Then they could give the balance to other
people who needed it--and the other people could make things for them.
Take Sophie. She not only needs clothing, she needs shoes, and above
all, she needs enough to eat. And if it's a question of there
not being enough food, look at what's wasted in a place like Master
Albert's! And there's land enough at 'Fairview' to raise food for the
whole town--I know what I'm talking about there, because I'm a farmer.
And it's used to keep a lot of race horses that nobody ever rides."
"Samuel," said the clergyman gravely, "that is true--and that is very
wrong. But what can _I_ do?"
And Samuel stared at him. "Doctor!" he exclaimed. "I can't tell you
how it hurts me to have you talk to me like that!"
"How do you mean, Samuel?" asked the other in bewilderment.
And the boy clasped his hands together in his agitation. "You told me
that we must sacrifice ourselves, and help others! You said that was
our sole duty! And I believed you--I was ready to go with you. And
here I am--I want to follow you, and you won't lead!"
Those words were like a stab. The doctor winced visibly.
And Samuel winced also--his heart was wrung.
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