"Aw, I mean who be ye? Be youse a detective, er from some society what
takes up kids fer sellin' papes on de street?"

"No, I'm not a detective. What makes you think so?"

"'Cause youse asks so many questions."

"I am interested. I never was in New York before, and I see so many
things that are strange that I want to know about them. Up our way we
believe in getting acquainted, so I thought I'd try it here. Every one
I talked to, though, seemed to think I was a swindler, I guess."

"Dat's right. Youse has t' be careful who youse talk to in N'York,"
said Jimmy with a comical air of wisdom.

"But you haven't told me your name yet," persisted Mr. Crosscrab.

"Sure youse ain't none of them children sasiety detectives?" asked the
newsboy.

"Sure. I'll give you my promise."

"Well, me name is Jimmy Small. Here ye are, sir! Paper! Wuxtry! All
about de big fire! Thirteen killed!"

Jimmy had interrupted his information to dispose of a paper to a man.

"Jimmy Small," repeated the man. "Where do you live?"

"Oh, I've got a swell joint on upper Fifth Avenoo," replied the boy,
with a wink, "but it's rented fer de season, an' I ain't livin' in it."

"No, I am serious," said Mr. Crosscrab. "I would really like to know."

"Honest? No kiddin'?" inquired Jimmy.

"No what?"

"No kiddin'. Is it de real goods? Youse ain't tryin' t' run up an
alley on me, is yer?"

"I don't exactly understand you, but I am really asking because I am
interested in you. I have a brother about your age, and I was
wondering how he would make out if he had to sell papers for a living."

"Say, take it from me, mister," spoke Jimmy earnestly. "Don't let him
do it. Dere's too many in de business now. Don't let him come t'
N'York an' sell papers!"

"Oh, he's not very likely to. But you haven't told me where you live."

"Aw, most anywheres. Wherever I kin. If I'm flush wid de coin I takes
a bed at de lodgin'-house. When I'm busted--on me uppers--cleaned
out--nuthin' doin'--why, I takes a chance at a bench in de park when
it's warm. If de cop don't see youse it's all right. Sometimes I hits
up an empty box, an' I've done me turn in a hallway. Under a dock
ain't so bad, only dere's too many rats t' suit me."

"You lead quite a varied sort of life, don't you?" inquired Mr.
Crosscrab.

"Youse kin search me. I ain't got it," replied Jimmy with more good
humor than he had previously shown. The man's talk was a littl