t he had. His face and hands generally bore the marks of his business, and as long as he made enough to buy three meals a day, two taken at the Lodging House, with somethi

onest claim for money that I have already paid." "Then I'm glad I found it." "You are an honest boy. You seem to be a poor boy also." "That's true, ma'am. If I was rich I wouldn't black boots for a livin'." "Dear me, you are one of the young street Arabs I've read about," and the lady looked curiously at Mike through her glasses. "I expect I am." "And I suppose you haven't much money." "My bank account is very low, ma'am." "I've read a book about a boy named `Ragged Dick.' I think he was a bootblack, too. Do you know him?" "He's my cousin, ma'am," answered Mike promptly. It will be observed that I don't represent Mike as possessed of all the virtues. "Dear me, how interesting. I bought the book for my little nephew. Now I can tell him I have seen `Ragged Dick's' cousin. Where is Dick now?" "He's reformed, ma'am." "Reformed?" "Yes, from blackin' boots. He's in better business now." "If I should give you some of the money in this pocketbook, you wouldn't spend it on drinking and gambling, would you?" "No, ma'am. I'd reform like my cousin, Ragged Dick." "You look like a good truthful boy. Here are ten dollars for you." "Oh, thank you, ma'am! you're a gentleman," said Mike overjoyed. "No, I don't mean that but I hope you'll soon get a handsome husband." "My young friend, I don't care to marry, though I appreciate your good wishes. I am an old maid from principle. I am an officer of the Female Suffrage Association." "Is it a good payin' office, ma'am?" asked Mike, visibly impressed. "No, but it is a position of responsibility. Please tell me your name that I may make a note of it." "My name is Michael Flynn." "I see. You are of Celtic extraction." "I don't know, ma'am. I never heard that I was. It isn't anything bad, is it?" "Not at all. I have some Celtic blood in my own veins. If you ever come to Boston you can inquire for Miss Pauline Peabody." "Thank you, ma'am," said Mike, who thought the lady rather a "queer lot." "Now I must call upon my lawyer, and leave the receipt which I came so near losing." "Well, I'm in luck," thought Mike. "I'll go home and dress up, and apply for a position as telegraph boy." When Rodney came home at supper time he found Mike, dressed in his Sunday suit. "What's up now, Mike?" he asked. "Have you retired from business?" "Yes, from the bootblack business. Tomorrow I shall be a telegraph boy." "That is good. You haven't saved up ten dollars, have you?" "I saved up two, and a lady gave me ten dollars for findin' her pocketbook." "That's