Jonathan was a loose-jointed, heavily built, and awkward boy of seventeen, bearing not the slightest resemblance to his cousin Frank. Still he was a relation, and our hero was glad to see him.

"How are you, Jonathan?" said Frank, cordially. "I wasn't expecting to see you. Are all well at home?"

"They're pooty smart," answered Jonathan. "I thought I'd come down and look round a little."

"I shall be glad to show you round. Where would you like to go?—to Central Park?"

"I don't care much about it," said the country cousin. "It's only a big pasture, dad says. I'd rather go round the streets. Is there any place where I can buy a few doughnuts? I feel kinder empty."

"Do you prefer doughnuts to anything else?" asked Frank, with a smile.

"I hear they're cheap,—only a cent apiece," answered Jonathan, "and I calc'late five or six will be enough to fill me up."

"You needn't mind the expense, cousin; I shall pay for your dinner."

Jonathan's heavy face lighted up with satisfaction.

"I don't care if you do," he said. "I hear you've got a lot of money now, Frank."

"I shall have enough, to make me comfortable, and start me in business."

"I wish I had as much money as you," said Jonathan, longingly.

"You are all right. Some time you will have more than I."

"I don't know about that. Dad keeps me awful close."

"You have all you want, don't you?"

"I've got some money in the bank," said Jonathan, "but I'd like to put in more. I never thought you'd have more money than I."

"You used to tell me I ought to go to the poor-house," said Frank, smiling.

"That's because you was livin' on dad, you know," explained Jonathan. "It wasn't fair to me, because he wouldn't have so much to leave me."

In the country Frank had not found much satisfaction in the company of his cousin, who inherited the combined meanness of both parents, and appeared to grudge poor Frank every mouthful he ate; but in the sunshine of his present prosperity he was disposed to forgive and forget.

Frank led the way to a restaurant not far away, where he allowed his cousin to order an ample dinner, which he did without scruple, since he was not to pay for it.

"It costs a sight to live in the city," he said, as he looked over the bill of fare.

"It costs something in the country, too, Jonathan."

"I wish you'd come and board with dad. He'd take you for five dollars a week, and it will cost you more in New York."

"Yes, it will cost me more here."

"Then you'll come, won't you? You'll be company for me."

Frank doubted whether Jonathan would be much company for him.

"You didn't use to think so, Jonathan."

"You couldn't pay your board then."

"Now that I can I prefer to remain in the city. I mean to go to school, and get a good education."

"How much do you have to pay for board here?"

"I can't tell what I shall have to pay. At present I am staying with friends, and pay nothing."

"Do you think they'd take me for a week the same way?" asked Jonathan, eagerly. "I'd like to stay a week first-rate if it didn't cost nothing."

"I shouldn't like to ask them; but some time I will invite you to come and pay me a visit of a week; it shall not cost you anything."

"You're a real good feller, Frank," said Jonathan, highly pleased by the invitation. "I'll come any time you send for me. It's pretty high payin' on the railroad, but I guess I can come."

Frank understood the hint, but did not feel called upon to pay his cousin's railway fare in addition to his week's board.

"What do you think of that?" asked Jonathan, presently, displaying a huge ring on one of his red fingers.

"Is that something you have bought in the city?" asked Frank.

"Yes," answered his cousin, complacently. "I got it at a bargain."

"Did you buy it in a jewelry store?"

"No; I'll tell you how it was. I was goin' along the street, when I saw a well-dressed feller, who looked kinder anxious. He come up to me, and he said, 'Do you know any one who wants to buy a splendid gold ring cheap?' Then he told me he needed some money right off to buy vittles for his family, bein' out of work for a month. He said the ring cost him fifteen dollars, and he'd sell it for three. I wasn't goin' to pay no such price, and I finally beat him down to a dollar," said Jonathan, chuckling. "I guess that's doing pretty well for one day. He said any jeweller would pay me six or seven dollars for it."

"Then why didn't he sell it to a jeweller him self, instead of giving it to you for a dollar?"

"I never thought of that," said Jonathan, looking puzzled.

"I am afraid it is not so good a bargain as you supposed," said Frank.

Great drops of perspiration came out on Jonathan's brow.

"You don't think it's brass, do you?" he gasped.

"Here is a jewelry store. We can go in and inquire."

They entered the store, and Frank, calling attention to the ring, inquired its probable value.

"It might be worth about three cents," said the jeweller, laughing. "I hope you didn't give much more for it."

"I gave a dollar," said Jonathan, in a voice which betrayed his anguish.

"Of whom did you buy it?"

"Of a man in the street."

"Served you right, then. You should have gone to a regular jewelry store."

"The man said it cost him fifteen dollars," said Jonathan, sadly.

"I dare say. He was a professional swindler, no doubt."

"I'd like to give him a lickin'," said Jonathan, wrathfully, as they left the store.

"What would you do if you was me?" he asked of his cousin.

"Throw it away."

"I wouldn't do that. Maybe I can sell it up in the country," he said, his face brightening up.

"For how much?"

"For what I gave."

"But that would be swindling."

"No, it wouldn't. I have a right to ask as much as I gave. It's real handsome if it is brass."

"I don't think that would be quite honest, Jonathan."

"You wouldn't have me lose the dollar, would you? That would be smart."

"I would rather be honest than be smart."

Jonathan dropped the subject, but eventually he sold the ring at home for a dollar and a quarter.