Chapter 24

           Theweekspassed.Martinranoutofmoney,andpublishers’checkswerefarawayasever. Allhisimportantmanuscriptshadcomebackandbeenstartedoutagain,andhishack-workfarednobetter. Hislittlekitchenwasnolongergracedwithavarietyoffoods. Caughtinthepinchwithapartsackofriceandafewpoundsofdriedapricots,riceandapricotswashismenuthreetimesadayforfivedayshand-running. Thenhestartledtorealizeonhiscredit. ThePortuguesegrocer,towhomhehadhithertopaidcash,calledahaltwhenMartin’sbillreachedthemagnificenttotalofthreedollarsandeighty-fivecents. 

           "Foryousee,"saidthegrocer,"younocatchadawork,Ilosadamon’." 

           AndMartincouldreplynothing. Therewasnowayofexplaining. Itwasnottruebusinessprincipletoallowcredittoastrong-bodiedyoungfellowoftheworking-classwhowastoolazytowork. 

           "Youcatchadajob,Iletyouhavemoradagrub,"thegrocerassuredMartin. "Nojob,nogrub. Thatadabusiness." Andthen,toshowthatitwaspurelybusinessforesightandnotprejudice,"Havadadrinkondahousegoodfriendsjustadasame." 

           SoMartindrank,inhiseasyway,toshowthathewasgoodfriendswiththehouse,andthenwentsupperlesstobed. 

           Thefruitstore,whereMartinhadboughthisvegetables,wasrunbyanAmericanwhosebusinessprinciplesweresoweakthatheletMartinrunabilloffivedollarsbeforestoppinghiscredit. Thebakerstoppedattwodollars,andthebutcheratfourdollars. 

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