well, Signor Orlando. You were much applauded."

"Yes, the audience is very loyal," said the proud performer.

Two half-grown boys heard Phil pronounce the name of his companion, and
they gazed awe-stricken at the famous man.

"That's Signor Orlando!" whispered one of the others.

"I know it," was the reply.

"Such is fame," said the Signor, in a pleased tone to Phil. "People
point me out on the streets."

"Very gratifying, no doubt," said our hero, but it occurred to him that
he would not care to be pointed out as a performer at Bowerman's. Signor
Orlando, however, well-pleased with himself, didn't doubt that Phil was
impressed by his popularity, and perhaps even envied it.

They didn't stay till the entertainment was over. It was, of course,
familiar to the signor, and Phil felt tired and sleepy, for he had
passed a part of the afternoon in exploring the city, and had walked in
all several miles.

He went back to his lodging-house, opened the door with a pass-key which
Mrs. Schlessinger had given him, and climbing to his room in the third
story, undressed and deposited himself in bed.

The bed was far from luxurious. A thin pallet rested on slats, so
thin that he could feel the slats through it, and the covering was
insufficient. The latter deficiency he made up by throwing his overcoat
over the quilt, and despite the hardness of his bed, he was soon
sleeping soundly.

"To-morrow I must look for a place," he said to Signor Orlando. "Can you
give me any advise?"

"Yes, my dear boy. Buy a daily paper, the Sun or Herald, and look at the
advertisements. There may be some prominent business man who is looking
out for a boy of your size."

Phil knew of no better way, and he followed Signor Orlando's advice.

After a frugal breakfast at the Bowery restaurant, he invested a few
pennies in the two papers mentioned, and began to go the rounds.

The first place was in Pearl Street.

He entered, and was directed to a desk in the front part of the store.

"You advertised for a boy," he said.

"We've got one," was the brusque reply.

Of course no more was to be said, and Phil walked out, a little dashed
at his first rebuff.

At the next place he found some half a dozen boys waiting, and joined
the line, but the vacancy was filled before his turn came.

At the next place his appearance seemed to make a good impression, and
he was asked several questions.

"What is your name?"

"Philip Brent."

"How old