ekilatin' in real estate," said Ben.

"You don't say!"

"Yes, I do."

"You've got most enough to buy a farm a'ready."

"I aint goin' to buy till I can buy a good one."

"What's the name of this street?"

"West Broadway."

They were really upon West Broadway by this time, that being as direct a
line as any to Bleecker Street.

"You see that store," said Ben.

"Yes; what's the matter of it?"

"I don't own it _now_," said Ben. "I sold it, cos the tenants didn't pay
their rent reg'lar."

"I should think you'd dress better if you've got so much money," said
the old lady, not unnaturally.

"What's the use of wearin' nice clo'es round among the wharves?" said
Ben.

"There's suthin in that. I tell my darter Jane--she lives in the
country--that it's no use dressin' up the children to go to
school,--they're sure to get their clo'es tore and dirty afore they get
home."

So Ben beguiled the way with wonderful stories, with which he played
upon the old lady's credulity. Of course it was wrong; but a street
education is not very likely to inspire its pupils with a reverence for
truth; and Ben had been knocking about the streets of New York, most of
the time among the wharves, for six years. His street education had
commenced at the age of ten. He had adopted it of his own free will.
Even now there was a comfortable home waiting for him; there were
parents who supposed him dead, and who would have found a difficulty in
recognizing him under his present circumstances. In the next chapter a
light will be thrown upon his past history, and the reader will learn
how his street life began.

CHAPTER II.

HOW BEN COMMENCED HIS STREET LIFE.

One pleasant morning, six years before the date at which this story
commences, a small coasting-vessel drew up at a North River pier in the
lower part of the city. It was loaded with freight, but there was at
least one passenger on board. A boy of ten, dressed in a neat jacket and
pants of gray-mixed cloth, stood on deck, watching with interest the
busy city which they had just reached.

"Well, bub, here we are," said the captain as he passed. "I suppose you
know your way home."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you going on shore now?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, good luck to you, my lad. If you are ever down this way, when I'm
in port, I shall be glad to see you."

"Thank you, sir; good-by."

"Good-by."

Ben clambered over the side, and stepped upon the wharf. In the great
city he