"Do you dare to propose that I, a gentleman, should black your
low-lived shoes?" exclaimed Sam furiously.

"I think you're rather hard on my shoes," said Ben, laughing. "I'll
come for four dollars a month, if you'll do that."

"I never heard such impudence," said Sam, in concentrated wrath. "I
never was so repaid for kindness before."

"Look here, Sam," said Ben, "I understand just how kind you are. You
want the satisfaction of ordering me round, and you can't have it. I
decline your offer. I'd rather beg for bread than accept it."

"You may starve, for all me," said Sam. "It's ridiculous for a poor
boy to put on such airs. You'll die in the poorhouse yet."

"I won't live there, if I can help it. What! are you going to leave
me?"

"I won't condescend to be seen with you."

"Good-by, Sam. I hope you won't have to black your own boots."

Sam did not deign a reply.

"He looks mad," thought Ben. "I'd live on one meal a day rather than
let him order me round."