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- Джек Лондон
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"
Do
you
know
what
they
do
to
poor
men
in
the
States
,
who
,
like
you
,
do
not
work
for
their
living
?
"
"
I
am
very
ignorant
,
"
she
pleaded
.
"
What
do
they
do
to
the
poor
men
who
are
like
me
?
"
"
They
send
them
to
jail
.
The
crime
of
not
earning
a
living
,
in
their
case
,
is
called
vagrancy
.
If
I
were
Mr.
Van
Weyden
,
who
harps
eternally
on
questions
of
right
and
wrong
,
I
'd
ask
,
by
what
right
do
you
live
when
you
do
nothing
to
deserve
living
?
"
"
But
as
you
are
not
Mr.
Van
Weyden
,
I
do
n't
have
to
answer
,
do
I
?
"
She
beamed
upon
him
through
her
terror-filled
eyes
,
and
the
pathos
of
it
cut
me
to
the
heart
.
I
must
in
some
way
break
in
and
lead
the
conversation
into
other
channels
.
"
Have
you
ever
earned
a
dollar
by
your
own
labour
?
"
he
demanded
,
certain
of
her
answer
,
a
triumphant
vindictiveness
in
his
voice
.
"
Yes
,
I
have
,
"
she
answered
slowly
,
and
I
could
have
laughed
aloud
at
his
crestfallen
visage
.
"
I
remember
my
father
giving
me
a
dollar
once
,
when
I
was
a
little
girl
,
for
remaining
absolutely
quiet
for
five
minutes
.
"
He
smiled
indulgently
.
"
But
that
was
long
ago
,
"
she
continued
.
"
And
you
would
scarcely
demand
a
little
girl
of
nine
to
earn
her
own
living
.
"
