street near by.

'Boss McCormick!' he shouted.

A hearty voice answered, 'Aye, aye, Counsellor,' and McCormick came out
of the crowd, using his shovel for a staff.

'A happy day if ye!' said Fogarty.

'Same if youse an' manny o' thim,' said McCormick.

'Ye'll gi'me one if ye do me a favour,' said Fogarty.

'An' what?' said the other.

'A job for this lad. Wull ye do it?'

'I wall,' said McCormick, and he did.

I went to work early the next morning, with nothing on but my
underclothing and trousers, save a pair of gloves, that excited the
ridicule of my fellows. With this livery and the righteous determination
of earning two dollars a day, I began the inelegant task of 'pounding
rocks no merry occupation, I assure you, for a hot summer's day on
Manhattan Island.

We were paving Park Place and we had to break stone and lay them and
shovel dirt and dig with a pick and crowbar.

My face and neck were burned crimson when we quit work at five, and I
went home with a feeling of having been run over by the cars. I had
a strong sense of soul and body, the latter dominated by a mighty
appetite. McClingan viewed me at first with suspicion in which there
was a faint flavour of envy. He invited me at once to his room, and was
amazed at seeing it was no lark. I told him frankly what I was doing and
why and where.

'I would not mind the loaning of a few dollars,' he said, 'as a matter
o' personal obligement I would be most happy to do it--most happy,
Brower, indeed I would.'

I thanked him cordially, but declined the favour, for at home they had
always taught me the danger of borrowing, and I was bound to have it out
with ill luck on my own resources.

'Greeley is back,' said he, 'and I shall see him tomorrow. I will put
him in mind o'you.'

I went away sore in the morning, but with no drooping spirit. In the
middle of the afternoon I straightened up a moment to ease my back and
look about me.

There at the edge of the gang stood the great Horace Greeley and Waxy
McClingan. The latter beckoned me as he caught my eye. I went aside to
greet them. Mr Greeley gave me his hand.

'Do you mean to tell me that you'd rather work than beg or borrow?' said
he.

'That's about it,' I answered.

'And ain't ashamed of it?

'Ashamed! Why?' said I, not quite sure of his meaning. It had never
occurred to me that one had any cause to be ashamed of working.

He turned to McClingan and laughed.

'I guess you'll do for the Tr