On the corner of one of the business streets of the city the other morning, a shoe-black had just finished polishing the shoes of a well-dressed and gentle appearing man. The latter was unfortunate in having a deformity which compelled him to wear a shoe on one of his feet with an exceedingly thick sole, thus endeavoring to make up mechanically for what nature had denied him. “How much shall I pay you?” he asked the boy. “Five cents, sir.” “O, but you should have more than five cents for polishing my shoes!” said the gentleman, tapping the thick sole significantly with his cane. “No, sir,” said the boy, “five cents is enough. I don’t want to make no money out o’ your hard luck.” The customer handed out a coin, laid his hand on the youngster’s head for a moment, and passed on. Who says the days of chivalry are over?—Exchange.