At the beginning Frederick's views were purely
personal, or, as the preachers say, selfish. Here was
an empty house, three miles nearer his work than his
hired attic was, and he had taken posses
sion. But
conscience always asserts itself, and it was not long
before he felt that he ought to extend the benefits of
this new discovery of his somewhat further. It really
was a satisfaction to what the pulpits call a "felt
want" when as he came through Massachusetts Avenue on
Thursday evening, he met a boy and a girl, neither of
them more than ten years old, crying on the sidewalk.
Dane is sympathetic and fond of children. He stopped
the little brats, and satisfied himself that neither
had had any supper. He could not understand a word of
the language in which they spoke, nor could they
understand him. But kindness needs little spoken
language; and accordingly Frederick led them along to
his cabin, and after waiting, as he always did, a
minute or two, to be sure that no one was in sight, he
unlocked the door, and brought in his little
companions.
It was clear enough that the children were such waifs
and strays that nothing surprised them, and they readily
accepted the modest hospitalities of the position. Like
all masculine housekeepers, Frederick had provided three
times as much food as he needed for his own physical
wants, so that it was not difficult to make these
children happy with the pieces of mince pie and lemon pie
and cream cake and eclairs which were left from his
unknown festivals of the day before. Poor little things,
they were both cold and tired, and, before half an hour
was over, they were snugly asleep on and under a pile of
Prohibition posters.
