the
city?"
This question was a poser, Ben thought. He was at first tempted to say
yes, but decided to answer truthfully.
"No, sir," he answered.
"Do you live in the lower part of the city?"
"Yes, sir; that is, I'm going to live there."
"How long have you lived in the city?"
"I only arrived this morning," Ben confessed, reluctantly.
"Then I'm afraid you will not answer my purpose. We need a boy who is
well acquainted with the city streets."
He was another disqualification. Ben left the store a little
discouraged. He began to think that it would be harder work making a
living than he had supposed. He would apply in two or three more stores,
and, if unsuccessful, he must sell papers or black boots. Of the two he
preferred selling papers. Blacking boots would soil his hands and his
clothes, and, as it was possible that he might some day encounter some
one from his native village, he did not like to have the report carried
home that he had become a New York boot-black. He felt that his
education and bringing up fitted him for something better than that.
However, it was not necessary to decide this question until he had got
through applying for a situation in a store.
He tried his luck again, and once was on the point of being engaged at
three dollars per week, when a question as to his parents revealed the
fact that he was without a guardian, and this decided the question
against him.
"It's of no use," said Ben, despondently. "I might as well go back."
So he turned, and retraced his steps down Broadway. By the time he got
to the City Hall Park he was quite tired. Seeing some vacant seats
inside, he went in and sat down, resting his bundle on the seat beside
him. He saw quite a number of street boys within the inclosure, most of
them boot-blacks. As a rule, they bore the marks of their occupation
not only on their clothes, but on their faces and hands as well. Some,
who were a little more careful than the rest, were provided with a small
square strip of carpeting, on which they kneeled when engaged in
"shining up" a customer's boots. This formed a very good protection for
the knees of their pantaloons. Two were even more luxurious, having
chairs in which they seated their customers. Where this extra
accommodation was supplied, however, a fee of ten cents was demanded,
while the boot-blacks in general asked but five.
"Black your boots?" asked one boy of Ben, observing that our young
adventurer's sho
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