That evening,
after I had changed my working clothes, which by the way, resembled the
white duck outfit worn by an African explorer, and, having left them in
the tool-house, I went home and attired myself in evening dress. Again I
met the Snipe family in one of the foyers of the hotel. The old lady,
accompanied by her eligible daughters, approached me and said: "Mr.
Convert, I have something awfully funny to tell you. It is just too
funny to keep to myself. You have a double; we saw him today. Now, don't
get angry when I tell you where we saw him and who he is, but he
resembled you so much that if it were not for the position he occupied I
should have sworn it was you. He was a member of the street-sweeping
brigade, and if you wish to see him just go over to Fifth avenue and
Twenty-sixth street tomorrow and you can see for yourself. There, now,
you are not angry, are you?"
"No," answered I, "the person you refer to I have seen many times. There
is nothing to be angry about. Certainly, not because he holds the
honorable position of cleaning the streets which you have to travel."
"Honorable," retorted Mrs. Snipe; "you must be joking. I cannot
understand how an aristocratic gentleman like yourself would otherwise
make such an absurd remark."
"I am not joking at all," said I; "in my estimation, the street-sweeper
belongs to the most honorable portion of mankind. He is down-trodden by
society now, owing to an unnatural system which permits the strong to
take the largest portion of wealth and rule; but the day will come when
men who sweep the streets or occupy other positions of worth to the
community, will enjoy the same luxuries and surroundings that you and
other non-producers now enjoy.
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