more because he was about to
leave him.

"I did treat him mean," he admitted to himself, his conscience
touched, for the first time, perhaps, in years. "I'm glad they
wouldn't let me have any of his money at the bank. I won't act so mean
again."

It is not to be supposed that this repentant mood lasted long. As Sam
neared the wharf from which the Fall River line of steamers left for
Boston, his thoughts were on the journey he was about to take, and his
spirits rose.

The steamer was moored alongside the wharf, perhaps halfway down.
There was a confused mass of trunks, bales and baggage of various
kinds on the pier waiting to be stowed away on board. It was early,
but a few passengers were already on board, and others were passing
over the gang plank at intervals. Sam thought he would go on board,
too, and look about a little. He had never been on board one of these
steamers, and was curious to see the accommodations. He went upstairs,
and found himself in a long and elegantly furnished saloon, with lines
of staterooms on either side. Three passengers were seated on sofas or
in armchairs. Two were engaged in reading an afternoon paper, and the
third, a girl of about fifteen, had her attention absorbed by a bird
cage containing a canary.

She looked up as Sam passed, and asked pleasantly: "Is it almost time
for the boat to start, sir?"

It was the first time Sam had been addressed as "sir," and he felt
flattered.

"I guess not," he said. "There's only a few people on board. I don't
think it'll start for an hour."

"I wish it would go soon," said the girl. "I am in a hurry to get
home."

"Do you live in Boston?" asked Sam.

"Yes; I've been to visit my uncle in Brooklyn, and now I'm going back.
Are you going to Boston, too?"

"Yes," answered Sam.

"Do you live there?"

"No; I never was there."

"I suppose you've got relations there?" said the young lady, in an
inquiring tone.

"No; I'm going on to see if I can't get a place."

The young girl surveyed him with interest.

"Do you have to earn your own living?" she asked.

"Yes."

"You are young to do that."

"Oh, I've had to earn my living ever since I was eleven or twelve."

"You don't mean it. Why, what did you do?"

"I was clerk in a store on Pearl Street," said Sam, who did not care
to mention his previous experience as a bootblack and newsboy.

"Well, I hope you'll get a good place. I've got a brother almost as
old as you, but he'd never