Excerpt: -You have bags of gold, and do you refuse to give me just a little?" "Not one cent." "I helped you to earn that money." "Yes." "And you refuse to give me any, and you are going away?" "I refuse to give you any and I am going away." The above dialogue occurred in a room on the top floor of a great tenement house, and a strangely picturesque scene was presented. An old man with frowzy hair, and deep-set eyes illuminating a dark and wrinkled face, sat by a table. Opposite to the old man was a bright-faced lad of thirteen or fourteen. The furnishings of the room were reasonably comfortable and on the table burned a flickering candle. Indeed the whole scene was weird and strange in the extreme."