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235
The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft
·
George Gissing
16
I
put
my
hand
into
my
pocket,
and
wrought
sixpennyworth
of
miracle.
It
took
me
half
an
hour
to
recover
my
quiet
mind.
After
all,
it
is
as
idle
to
rage
against
man's
fatuity
as
to
hope
that
he
will
ever
be
less
a
fool.
For
me,
the
great
thing
was
my
sixpenny
miracle.
Why,
I
have
known
the
day
when
it
would
have
been
beyond
my
power
altogether,
or
else
would
have
cost
me
a
meal.
Wherefore,
let
me
again
be
glad
and
thankful.
IV.
There
was
a
time
in
my
life
when,
if
I
had
suddenly
been
set
in
the
position
I
now
enjoy,
conscience
would
have
lain
in
ambush
for
me.
What!
An
income
sufficient
to
support
three
or
four
working-class
families--a
house
all
to
myself--things
beautiful
wherever
I
turn--and
absolutely
nothing
to
do
for
it
all!
I
should
have
been
hard
put
to
it
to
defend
myself.
In
those
days
I
was
feelingly
reminded,
hour
by
hour,
with
what
a
struggle
the
obscure
multitudes
manage
to
keep
alive.
Nobody
knows
better
than
I
do
quam
parvo
liceat
producere
vitam.
I
have
hungered
in
the
streets;
I
have
laid
my
head
in
the
poorest
shelter;
I
know
what
it
is
to
feel
the
heart
burn
with
wrath
and
envy
of
"the
privileged
classes."
Yes,
but
all
that
time
I
was
one
of
"the
privileged"
myself,
and
now
I
can
accept
a
recognized
standing
among
them
without
shadow
of
self-reproach.
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