boots, or else he would not have got the place of porter, but that all the rest of the help would consider it a disgrace, and would not help him for love or money. So it seemed quite safe to offer him my services."
I felt that the matter was almost hopeless, but I asked, "And what he said, didn't that suggest anything else to you?"
"How, anything else?" asked the Altrurian, in his turn.
"Didn't it occur to you that if none of his fellow servants were willing to help him black boots, and if he did it only because he was obliged to, it was hardly the sort of work for you?"
"Why, no," said the Altrurian, with absolute simplicity. He must have perceived the despair I fell into at this answer, for he asked, "Why should I have minded doing for others what I should have been willing to do for myself?"
"There are a great many things we are willing to do for ourselves that we are not willing to do for others. But even on that principle, which I think false and illogical, you could not be justified. A gentleman is not willing to black his own boots. It is offensive to his feelings, to his self-respect; it is
