painting idea

there is enjoyment in looking back to painful experience past; but
at this day I can scarcely bear to review the times to which I allude:
the moral degradation, blent with the physical suffering, form too
distressing a recollection ever to be willingly dwelt on. I blamed
none of those who repulsed me. I felt it was what was to be
expected, and what could not be helped: an ordinary beggar is
frequently an object of suspicion; a well-dressed beggar inevitably
so. To be sure, what I begged was employment; but whose business was
it to provide me with employment? Not, certainly, that of persons
who saw me then for the first time, and who knew nothing about my
painting idea
exchange for her bread, why, she was right, if the offer appeared to
her sinister or the exchange unprofitable. Let me condense now. I am
sick of the subject.
A little before dark I passed a farmhouse, at the open door of
which the farmer was sitting, eating his supper of bread and cheese. I
stopped and said-
'Will you give me a piece of bread? for I am very hungry.' He
cast on me a glance of surprise; but without answering, he cut a thick