{"id":"01KG6G84B4N8Q976RN6SJ6N2B9","cid":"bafkreicbuth4rzc24bnupi5o3euokx3viyksxzlol2t43k3heioi4zx5xe","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":6567,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T03:48:16.153Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG6FXSCNX5F3D880P3YP3PKR","start_line":6479,"text":"‘What a generous, noble, magnanimous charity this is! unheard of in any\r\ncountry but England, which feeds her very beggars with golden-hued\r\njellies.’\r\n\r\n‘But not three times every day, my friend. And do you really think that\r\njellies are the best sort of relief you can furnish to beggars? Would\r\nnot plain beef and bread, with something to do, and be paid for, be\r\nbetter?’\r\n\r\n‘But plain beef and bread were not eaten here. Emperors, and prince\r\nregents, and kings, and field-marshals don’t often dine on plain beef\r\nand bread. So the leavings are according. Tell me, can you expect that\r\nthe crumbs of kings can be like the crumbs of squirrels?’\r\n\r\n‘_You!_ I mean _you!_ stand aside, or else be served and away! Here,\r\ntake this pasty, and be thankful that you taste of the same dish with\r\nHer Grace the Duchess of Devonshire. Graceless ragamuffin, do you hear?’\r\n\r\nThese words were bellowed at me through the din by a red-gowned official\r\nnigh the board.\r\n\r\n‘Surely he does not mean _me_,’ said I to my guide; ‘he has not\r\nconfounded _me_ with the rest.’\r\n\r\n‘One is known by the company he keeps,’ smiled my guide. ‘See! not only\r\nstands your hat awry and bunged on your head, but your coat is fouled\r\nand torn. Nay,’ he cried to the red-gown, ‘this is an unfortunate\r\nfriend; a simple spectator, I assure you.’\r\n\r\n‘Ah! is that you, old lad!’ responded the red-gown, in familiar\r\nrecognition of my guide--a personal friend as it seemed; ‘well, convey\r\nyour friend out forthwith. Mind the grand crash; it will soon be coming;\r\nhark! now! away with him!’\r\n\r\nToo late. The last dish had been seized. The yet unglutted mob raised a\r\nfierce yell, which wafted the banners like a strong gust, and filled the\r\nair with a reek as from sewers. They surged against the tables, broke\r\nthrough all barriers, and billowed over the hall--their bare tossed arms\r\nlike the dashed ribs of a wreck. It seemed to me as if a sudden impotent\r\nfury of fell envy possessed them. That one half-hour’s peep at the mere\r\nremnants of the glories of the Banquets of Kings; the unsatisfying\r\nmouthfuls of disembowelled pasties, plundered pheasants, and half-sacked\r\njellies, served to remind them of the intrinsic contempt of the alms. In\r\nthis sudden mood, or whatever mysterious thing it was that now seized\r\nthem, these Lazaruses seemed ready to spew up in repentant scorn the\r\ncontumelious crumbs of Dives.\r\n\r\n‘This way, this way! stick like a bee to my back,’ intensely whispered\r\nmy guide. ‘My friend there has answered my beck, and thrown open yon\r\nprivate door for us two. Wedge--wedge in--quick--there goes your bunged\r\nhat--never stop for your coat-tail--hit that man--strike him down! hold!\r\njam! now! now! wrench along for your life! ha! here we breathe freely;\r\nthank God! You faint. Ho!’\r\n\r\n‘Never mind. This fresh air revives me.’\r\n\r\nI inhaled a few more breaths of it, and felt ready to proceed.\r\n\r\n‘And now conduct me, my good friend, by some front passage into\r\nCheapside, forthwith. I must home.’\r\n\r\n‘Not by the side-walk, though. Look at your dress. I must get a hack for\r\nyou.’\r\n\r\n‘Yes, I suppose so,’ said I, ruefully eyeing my tatters, and then\r\nglancing in envy at the close-bodied coat and flat cap of my guide,\r\nwhich defied all tumblings and tearings.\r\n\r\n‘There, now, sir,’ said the honest fellow, as he put me into the hack,\r\nand tucked in me and my rags, ‘when you get back to your own country,\r\nyou can say you have witnessed the greatest of all England’s noble\r\ncharities. Of course, you will make reasonable allowances for the\r\nunavoidable jam. Good-bye. Mind, Jehu’--addressing the driver on the\r\nbox--‘this is a _gentleman_ you carry. He is just from the Guildhall\r\nCharity, which accounts for his appearance. Go on now. London Tavern,\r\nFleet Street, remember, is the place.’\r\n\r\n              •         •         •         •         •         •\r\n\r\n‘Now, Heaven in its kind mercy save me from the noble charities of\r\nLondon,’ sighed I, as that night I lay bruised and battered on my bed;\r\n‘and Heaven save me equally from the “Poor Man’s Pudding” and the “Rich\r\nMan’s Crumbs.”’\r\n\r\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6G7FZ2YHGJJ41X3XV1H542","peer_type":"section","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6FXSCNX5F3D880P3YP3PKR","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG2T49K0H5GDRB0G4YDTPG8H","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"}],"ver":1,"created_at":"2026-01-30T03:48:16.356Z","ts":"2026-01-30T03:48:16.356Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}