The _Schnorrer_ felt no false shame in his begging.

He knew it was the rich man's duty to give him unleavened bread at Passover, and coals in the winter, and odd half-crowns at all seasons; and he regarded himself as the Jacob's ladder by which the rich man mounted to Paradise.

But, like all genuine philanthropists, he did not look for gratitude.

He felt that virtue was its own reward, especially when he sat in Sabbath vesture at the head of his table on Friday nights, and thanked God in an operatic aria for the white cotton table-cloth and the fried sprats.

He sought personal interviews with the most majestic magnates, and had humorous repartees for their lumbering censure.
As for the rich, they gave charity unscrupulously--in the same Oriental, unscientific, informal spirit in which the _Dayanim_, those cadis of the East End, administered justice.