uld be
deeply grieved by his running away from home. But Ben's besetting sin
was pride, mingled with obstinacy, and pride prevailed over his love
for his mother. If he could have known of the bitter tears which his
mother was even now shedding over her lost boy, I think he would have
found it difficult to maintain his resolution.

When the letter was written, Ben went across to the post-office, and
bought a three-cent stamp, which he placed on the envelope. Then,
learning that there was an evening train for Philadelphia, he went down
to the Cortlandt Street Ferry, and watched till he saw a gentleman, who
had the air of a traveller. Ben stepped up to him and inquired, "Are you
going to Philadelphia, sir?"

"Yes, my lad," was the answer; "are you going there also?"

"No, sir."

"I thought you might want somebody to take charge of you. Is there
anything I can do for you?"

"Yes, sir. If you would be so kind as to post this letter in
Philadelphia."

"I will do so; but why don't you post it in New York? It will go just as
well."

"The person who wrote it," said Ben, "doesn't want to have it known
where it came from."

"Very well, give it to me, and I will see that it is properly mailed."

The gentleman took the letter, and Ben felt glad that it was written. He
thought it would relieve his mother's anxiety.

As he was standing on the pier, a gentleman having a carpet-bag in one
hand, and a bundle of books in the other, accosted him.

"Can you direct me to the Astor House, boy?"

"Yes, sir," said Ben.

Then, with a sudden thought, he added, "Shall I carry your carpet-bag,
sir?"

"On the whole I think you may," said the gentleman. "Or stay, I think
you may take this parcel of books."

"I can carry both, sir."

"No matter about that. I will carry the bag, and you shall be my guide."

Ben had not yet had time to get very well acquainted with the city; but
the Astor House, which is situated nearly opposite the lower end of the
City Hall Park, he had passed a dozen times, and knew the way to it
very well. He was glad that the gentleman wished to go there, and not to
one of the up-town hotels, of which he knew nothing. He went straight up
Cortlandt Street to Broadway, and then turning north, soon arrived at
the massive structure, which, for over thirty years, has welcomed
travellers from all parts of the world.

"This is the Astor House, sir," said Ben.

"I remember it now," said the gentleman; "but it is t