e girl by the hand, Miss Manning led the way down the
narrow staircase. It was far from a handsome house in which they had
thus far made their home. The wall-paper was torn from the walls in
places, revealing patches of bare plastering; there was a faded and worn
oil-cloth upon the stairs, while outside the rooms at intervals, along
the entry, were buckets of dirty water and rubbish, which had been
temporarily placed there by the occupants. As it was Monday, washing was
going on in several of the rooms, and the vapor arising from hot suds
found its way into the entry from one or two half-open doors. On the
whole, it was not a nice or savory home, and the seamstress felt no
regret in leaving it. But the question was, would she be likely to find
a better.

The seamstress made her way first to Spring Street. She was led to
infer, from the advertisement, that she might find cheap accommodations.
But when she found herself in front of the house designated, she found
it so dirty and neglected in appearance that she did not feel like
entering. She was sure it would not suit her.

Next she went to Leroy Street. Here she found a neat-looking three-story
brick house.

She rang the bell.

"You advertise a room to let," she said to the servant; "can I look at
it?"

"I'll speak to the missis," said the girl.

Soon a portly lady made her appearance.

"You have a room to let?" said Miss Manning, interrogatively.

"Yes."

"Can I look at it?"

"It's for a gentleman," said the landlady. "I don't take ladies.
Besides, it's rather expensive;" and she glanced superciliously at the
plain attire of the seamstress.

Of course there was no more to be said. So Miss Manning and Rose found
their way into the street once more.

The last on the list was Christopher Street.

"Come, Rose. Are you tired of walking?"

"Oh, no," said the child; "I can walk ever so far without getting
tired."

Christopher Street is only three blocks from Leroy. In less than ten
minutes they found themselves before the house advertised. It was a
fair-looking house, but the seamstress found, on inquiry, that the room
was a large one on the second floor, and that the rent would be beyond
her means. She was now at the end of her list.

"I think, Rose," she said, "we will go to Washington Square, and sit
down on one of the seats. I shall have to look over the paper again."

This square is a park of considerable size, comprising very nearly ten
acres. Up