A Pawn-Shop

A white, impassive, careful face
Peers from behind the polished boards
That bear upon their sagging lengths
Quaint, varied, damaged, useful hoards.

Quick, nervous fingers take the gem,
A single look—the offer made.
Masked features watch the caller's whim,
Ready to bargain or to trade.

Hearing each woman's threadbare tale
"With scarce-concealed apathy,
Or, if her tears impede the sale,
With self-regarding sympathy.

Be cash for food or gaiety,
To dress a maid, to quench a thirst,
A man devoid of questions, he,
Of all compassion surely first.

—S.E.B.