"Well, Frank, and how is your business?" asked the old gentleman, when they were sitting at the dinner-table.

"Pretty good, sir."

"Are you making your expenses?"

"Yes, sir; just about."

"That is well. Mind you never run into debt. That is a bad plan."

"I shan't have to now, sir. If I had had to buy clothes for myself, I might have had to."

"Do you find the shirts and stockings fit you?"

"Yes, sir; they are just right."

"I bought half a dozen of each. Susan will give you the bundle when you are ready to go. If they had not been right, they could have been exchanged."

"Thank you, sir. I shall feel rich with so many clothes."

"Where do you sleep, Frank?"

"At the Newsboy's Lodging-House."

"Is there any place there where you can keep your clothes?"

"Yes, sir. Each boy has a locker to himself."

"That is a good plan. It would be better if you had a room to yourself."

"I can't afford it yet, sir. The lodging-house costs me only forty-two cents a week for a bed, and I could not get a room for that."

"Bless my soul! That is very cheap. Really, I think I could save money by giving up my house, and going there to sleep."

"I don't think you would like it, sir," said Frank, smiling.

"Probably not. Now, Frank, I am going to mention a plan I have for you. You don't want to be a newsboy all your life."

"No, sir; I think I should get tired of it by the time I was fifty."

"My friend Thompson, the gentleman who was walking with me when we first saw you, is an officer of the American District Telegraph Company. They employ a large number of boys at their various offices to run errands; and, in fact, to do anything that is required of them. Probably you have seen some of the boys going about the city."

"Yes, sir; they have a blue uniform."

"Precisely. How would you like to get a situation of that kind?"

"Very much, sir," said Frank, promptly.

"Would you like it better than being a newsboy?"

"Yes, sir."

"My friend Thompson, to whom I spoke on the subject, says he will take you on in a few weeks, provided you will qualify yourself for the post."

"I will do that, sir, if you will tell me how."

"You must be well acquainted with the city in all its parts, know the locations of different hotels, prominent buildings, have a fair education, and be willing to make yourself generally useful. You will have to satisfy the superintendent that you are fitted for the position."

"I think my education will be sufficient," said Frank, "for I always went to school till just before I came to the city. I know something about the lower part of the city, but I will go about every day during the hours when I am not selling papers till I am familiar with all parts of it."

"Do so, and when there is a vacancy I will let you know."

"How much pay shall I get, sir, if they accept me?"

"About three dollars a week at first, and more when you get familiar with your duties. No doubt money will also be given you by some who employ you, though you will not be allowed to ask for any fees. Very likely you will get nearly as much in this way as from your salary."

Frank's face expressed satisfaction.

"That will be bully," he said.

"I beg pardon," said the old gentleman, politely. "What did you remark?"

"That will be excellent," said Frank, blushing.

"I thought you spoke of a bully."

"It was a word I learned from Dick Rafferty," said Frank, feeling rather embarrassed.

"And who is Dick Rafferty?"

"One of my friends at the Lodging-House."

"Unless his education is better than yours I would not advise you to learn any of his words."

"I beg your pardon, sir."

"You must excuse my offering you advice. It is the privilege of the old to advise the young."

"I shall always be glad to follow your advice, Mr. Bowen," said Frank.

"Good boy, good boy," said the old gentleman, approvingly. "I wish all boys were like you. Some think they know more than their grandfathers. There's one of that kind who lives next door."

"His name is Victor Dupont, isn't it, sir?"

Mr. Bowen looked surprised. "How is it that you know his name?" he asked.

"We were together a good deal last summer. His family boarded at the hotel in the country village where I used to live. He and I went bathing and fishing together."

"Indeed! Have you seen him since you came to the city?"

"I met him as I was on my way here this afternoon."

"Did he speak to you?"

"Yes, sir; though at first he pretended he didn't remember me."

"Just like him. He is a very proud and conceited boy. Did you tell him you were coming to dine with me?"

"Yes, sir. He seemed very much surprised, as I had just told him I was a newsboy. He said he was surprised that you should invite a newsboy to dine with you."

"I would much rather have you dine with me than him. What more did he say?"

"He said he shouldn't think I would like to go out to dinner with such a shabby suit."

"We have removed that objection," said Mr. Bowen, smiling.

"Yes, sir," said Frank; "I think Victor will treat me more respectfully now when he meets me."

"The respect of such a boy is of very little importance. He judges only by the outside."

At an early hour Frank took his leave, promising to call again before long.

"Where can I send to you if you are wanted for a telegraph boy?" asked Mr. Bowen.

"A letter to me addressed to the care of Mr. O'Connor at the lodging-house will reach me," said Frank.

"Write it down for me," said the old gentleman. "You will find writing materials on yonder desk."

When Frank made his appearance at the lodging-house in his new suit, with two bundles, one containing his old clothes, and the other his extra supply of underclothing, his arrival made quite a sensation.

"Have you come into a fortun'?" asked one boy.

"Did you draw a prize in the Havana lottery?" asked another.

"Have you been playing policy?" asked a third.

"You're all wrong," said Dick Rafferty. "Frank's been adopted by a rich man upon Madison avenue. Aint that so, Frank?"

"Something like it," said Frank. "There's a gentleman up there who has been very kind to me."

"If he wants to adopt another chap, spake a good word for me," said Patsy Reagan.

"Whisht, Patsy, he don't want no Irish bog-trotter," said Phil Donovan.

"You're Irish yourself, Phil, now, and you can't deny it."

"What if I am? I aint no bog-trotter—I'm the son of an Irish count. You can see by my looks that I belong to the gintry."

"Then the gintry must have red hair and freckles, Phil. There aint no chance for you."

"Tell us all about it, Frank," said Dick. "Shure I'm your best friend, and you might mention my name to the ould gintleman if he's got any more good clothes to give away."

"I will with pleasure, Dick, if I think it will do any good."

"You won't put on no airs because you're better dressed than the likes of us?"

"I shall wear my old clothes to-morrow, Dick. I can't afford to wear my best clothes every day."

"I can," said Dick, dryly, which was quite true, as his best clothes were the only ones he had.

Bright and early the next morning Frank was about his work, without betraying in any way the proud consciousness of being the owner of two suits. He followed Mr. Bowen's advice, and spent his leisure hours in exploring the city in its various parts, so that in the course of a month he knew more about it than boys who had lived in it all their lives. He told Dick his object in taking these long walks, and urged him to join him in the hope of winning a similar position; but Dick decided that it was too hard work. He preferred to spend his leisure time in playing marbles or pitching pennies.