Temptation

1895

"I shall never," says a New York woman active in philanthropic work, "carry my pocketbook in my hands in the street again. A recent experience has showed me its danger to others besides myself. I have been interested lately in a young man, a typical growth of the tenements, and have been trying to encourage him to lead a better life, with, I hope, some degree of success.

"A few days ago I met him on the street and stopped to ask how he was prospering. In my hand at the time I was holding my pocketbook, and from the moment that we met I saw his eyes fastened on that with a wolfish look that made me tremble. I did not dare put it in my pocket lest he should discover my distrust, and yet I felt that it was cruel to stand there with it flaunted in the face of his desperation.

"The interview was most trying. I asked him a few questions, to which he scarcely replied, so fascinated was he with the sight of the purse, and as soon as I could with ease I bade him good-by and walked on. As I did so he raised his eyes to mine with a conscious, hunted, yet baffled look, that told me as plainly as if he had said it that were I not I the result would have been different.

"When I turned the corner and was out of his sight, I stopped, weak and faint, to recover myself, and put that purse in my pocket with the vow that it or any other in my hands should never again offer temptation to a fellow creature." — New York Times.