nging
them critically.

"Then I can't afford it,"

"Twenty cents."

"No," said Sam. "I've got to earn my own living, and I can't afford
it. Is blackin' boots a good business?"

"Some days it is, but if it comes rainy, it isn't. I'll give you a
bully shine for ten cents."

"Will you show me afterwards where I can get some dinner cheap?" asked
Sam, who was still hungry.

"Yes," said the boot-black. "I know a tip-top place."

"Is it far off?"

"Right round in Chatham street--only a minute's walk."

"All right. Go ahead. I'll give you ten cents."

Sam felt that he was paying his money not only for the actual service
done, but for valuable information besides. On the whole, though he
knew he must be economical, it seemed to him a paying investment.

"Did you come from the country?" asked the young knight of the
blacking-brush, while he was vigorously brushing the first shoe.

"Yes," said Sam. "I only got here just now."

"That's what I thought."

"Why?"

"Because you look like a greenhorn."

"Do you mean to insult me?" asked Sam, nettled.

"No," said the other; "only if you've never been here before of course
you're green."

"I won't be long," said Sam, hastily.

"Course you won't, 'specially if you have me to show you round."

"Have you lived long in New York?" inquired Sam.

"I was born here," said the boy.

"Have you been long blackin' boots?"

"Ever since I was knee-high to a door-step."

"Then you make a living at it?"

"I don't starve. What made you leave the country?"

"I got tired of working on a farm."

"Did you have enough to eat?"

"Yes."

"And a good bed to sleep in?"

"Yes."

"Then you'd ought to have stayed there," said the boot-black.

"I think I shall like the city better," said Sam. "There's a good deal
more goin' on."

"I'd like to try the country. You don't live at the West, do you?"

"No."

"Lots of boys goes West. Maybe I'll go there, some time."

"Is it a good place?"

"That's what they say. The boys gets good homes out there on farms."

"Then I don't want to go," said Sam. "I'm tired of farmin'."

By this time the shoes were polished.

"Aint that a bully shine?" asked the boot-black, surveying his work
with satisfaction.

"Yes," said Sam. "You know how to do it."

"Course I do. Now where's the stamps?"

Sam drew out ten cents, and handed to the boy.

"Now show me where I can get some dinner."

"All right. Come along!" and the boy, slinging