way, or riding in
their carriages, don't you sometimes think it would be agreeable if you
could be in their place?"

"I should like to have a lot of money," said Ben. "I wouldn't mind bein'
the president of a bank, or a railway-director, or somethin' of that
kind."

"I am afraid you have never thought seriously upon the subject of your
future," said Ben's companion, "or you wouldn't be satisfied with your
present business."

"What else can I do? I'd rather smash baggage than sell papers or black
boots."

"I would not advise either. I'll tell you what you ought to do, my young
friend. You should leave the city, and come out West. I'll give you
something to do on one of my farms, and promote you as you are fit for
it."

"You're very kind," said Ben, more seriously; "but I shouldn't like it."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to leave the city. Here there's somethin' goin' on. I'd
miss the streets and the crowds. I'd get awful lonesome in the country."

"Isn't it better to have a good home in the country than to live as you
do in the city?"

"I like it well enough," said Ben. "We're a jolly crowd, and we do as we
please. There aint nobody to order us round 'cept the copps, and they
let us alone unless we steal, or something of that kind."

"So you are wedded to your city life?"

"Yes, I guess so; though I don't remember when the weddin' took place."

"And you prefer to live on in your old way?"

"Yes, sir; thank you all the same."

"You may change your mind some time, my lad. If you ever do, and will
write to me at B----, Ohio, I will send for you to come out. Here is my
card."

"Thank you, sir," said Ben. "I'll keep the card, and if ever I change my
mind, I'll let you know."

They had been walking slowly, or they would have reached Broadway
sooner. They had now arrived there, and the stranger bade Ben good-by,
handing him at the same time the fifty cents agreed upon.

"He's a brick," Ben soliloquized, "even if he did say he'd smash my
head. I hope I'll meet some more like him."

Ben's objection to leaving the city is felt in an equal degree by many
boys who are situated like himself. Street life has its privations and
actual sufferings; but for all that there is a wild independence and
freedom from restraint about it, which suits those who follow it. To be
at the beck and call of no one; to be responsible only to themselves,
provided they keep from violating the law, has a charm to these young
outcasts.