onse to a call from his lawyer, who wanted his signature to
some papers. It was five years since Van Bibber had been south of the
north side of Washington Square, except as a transient traveller to the
ferries on the elevated road. And as he walked through the City Hall
Square he looked about him at the new buildings in the air, and the
bustle and confusion of the streets, with as much interest as a lately
arrived immigrant.

He rather enjoyed the novelty of the situation, and after he had
completed his business at the lawyer's office he tried to stroll along
lower Broadway as he did on the Avenue.

But people bumped against him, and carts and drays tried to run him
down when he crossed the side streets, and those young men whom he knew
seemed to be in a great hurry, and expressed such amused surprise at
seeing him that he felt very much out of place indeed. And so he
decided to get back to his club window and its quiet as soon as
possible.

"Hello, Van Bibber," said one of the young men who were speeding by,
"what brings you here? Have you lost your way?"

"I think I have," said Van Bibber. "If you'll kindly tell me how I can
get back to civilization again, be obliged to you."

"Take the elevated from Park Place," said his friend from over his
shoulder, as he nodded and dived into the crowd.

The visitor from up-town had not a very distinct idea as to where Park
Place was, but he struck off Broadway and followed the line of the
elevated road along Church Street. It was at the corner of Vesey
Street that a miserable-looking, dirty, and red-eyed object stood still
in his tracks and begged Van Bibber for a few cents to buy food. "I've
come all the way from Chicago," said the Object, "and I haven't tasted
food for twenty-four hours."

Van Bibber drew away as though the Object had a contagious disease in
his rags, and handed him a quarter without waiting to receive the man's
blessing.

"Poor devil!" said Van Bibber. "Fancy going without dinner all day!" He
could not fancy this, though he tried, and the impossibility of it
impressed him so much that he amiably determined to go back and hunt up
the Object and give him more money. Van Bibber's ideas of a dinner
were rather exalted. He did not know of places where a quarter was
good for a "square meal," including "one roast, three vegetables, and
pie." He hardly considered a quarter a sufficiently large tip for the
waiter who served the dinner, and decidedly