hat a queer chap you are, Dick!" said Frank, laughing. "You always
seem to be in good spirits."

"No, I aint always. Sometimes I have the blues."

"When?"

"Well, once last winter it was awful cold, and there was big holes
in my shoes, and my gloves and all my warm clothes was at the
tailor's. I felt as if life was sort of tough, and I'd like it if
some rich man would adopt me, and give me plenty to eat and drink
and wear, without my havin' to look so sharp after it. Then agin'
when I've seen boys with good homes, and fathers, and mothers, I've
thought I'd like to have somebody to care for me."

Dick's tone changed as he said this, from his usual levity, and
there was a touch of sadness in it. Frank, blessed with a good home
and indulgent parents, could not help pitying the friendless boy who
had found life such up-hill work.

"Don't say you have no one to care for you, Dick," he said, lightly
laying his hand on Dick's shoulder. "I will care for you."

"Will you?"

"If you will let me."

"I wish you would," said Dick, earnestly. "I'd like to feel that I
have one friend who cares for me."

Central Park was now before them, but it was far from presenting
the appearance which it now exhibits. It had not been long since
work had been commenced upon it, and it was still very rough and
unfinished. A rough tract of land, two miles and a half from north
to south, and a half a mile broad, very rocky in parts, was the
material from which the Park Commissioners have made the present
beautiful enclosure. There were no houses of good appearance near
it, buildings being limited mainly to rude temporary huts used by
the workmen who were employed in improving it. The time will
undoubtedly come when the Park will be surrounded by elegant
residences, and compare favorably in this respect with the most
attractive parts of any city in the world. But at the time when
Frank and Dick visited it, not much could be said in favor either
of the Park or its neighborhood.

"If this is Central Park," said Frank, who naturally felt
disappointed, "I don't think much of it. My father's got a large
pasture that is much nicer."

"It'll look better some time," said Dick. "There aint much to see
now but rocks. We will take a walk over it if you want to."

"No," said Frank, "I've seen as much of it as I want to. Besides, I
feel tired."

"Then we'll go back. We can take the Sixth Avenue cars. They will
bring us out at Vesey Street just bes