, and it was delivered to him.

The next thing was to buy a new suit of clothes. Usually Ben had
procured his outfit in Chatham Street, but he soared higher now. He made
his way to a large ready-made clothing warehouse on Broadway, and
entered. The main apartment was spacious, the counters were heaped with
articles of dress, and numerous clerks were ready to wait upon
customers.

"Well, what's wanted?" asked one, glancing superciliously at the ragged
boy entering.

"Have you got any clothes that will fit me?" asked Ben.

"I guess you've lost your way, Johnny, haven't you?"

"What makes you think so?" asked Ben.

"This isn't Chatham Street."

"Thank you for the information," said Ben. "I thought it was when I saw
you here."

There was a laugh, at the clerk's expense, among those who heard the
retort.

"What are you here for, any way?" demanded the clerk, with an air of
insulted majesty.

"To buy some clothes," said Ben; "but you needn't show 'em to me. I'll
go to somebody else."

"Have you got any money?"

"You'll know soon enough."

He went to another part of the store, and applied to a salesman whose
appearance he liked better. After some hesitation, Ben made choice of a
suit of substantial warm cloth, a dark mixed sack-coat, vest of the same
material, and a pair of pants of neat pattern.

"I won't trouble you to send 'em," said Ben, "as my house is closed for
the season."

The bundle was made up, and handed to him. The price of the entire suit
was twenty dollars, which was a good price for those days. Ben took the
bundle under his arm and went out.

His purchases were not yet all made. He went next to a furnishing store,
and bought three shirts, three pairs of stockings, some collars, and a
necktie, finishing up with a pair of gloves. These cost him eight
dollars. A neat felt hat and a pair of shoes, which he procured
elsewhere, completed his outfit. On counting up, Ben found that he had
expended thirty-six dollars, leaving in his hands a balance of fourteen
dollars and thirty-seven cents.

Before putting on his new purchases, Ben felt that he must go through a
process of purification. He went, therefore, to a barber's basement
shop, with which baths were connected, and, going down the steps, said
to the barber's assistant, who happened to be alone at the time, "I want
a warm bath."

"Pay in advance," said the young man, surveying the ragged figure before
him with some hesitation.

"All rig