“This is a very neat room for a single gentleman,” remarked Mrs. Schlessinger.

Phil’s spirits fell as he surveyed what was to be his future home.  It was a sad contrast to his neat, comfortable room at home.

“Is this room like yours, Signor Orlando?” he asked faintly.

“As like as two peas,” answered Orlando.

“Would you recommend me to take it?”

“You couldn’t do better.”

How could the signor answer otherwise in presence of a landlady to whom he owed two weeks’ rent?

“Then,” said Phil, with a secret shudder, “I’ll take it if the rent is satisfactory.”

“A dollar and a quarter a week,” said Mrs. Schlessinger promptly.

“I’ll take it for a week.”

“You won’t mind paying in advance?” suggested the landlady.  “I pay my own rent in advance.”

Phil’s answer was to draw a dollar and a quarter from his purse and pass it to his landlady.

“I’ll take possession now,” said our hero.  “Can I have some water to wash my face?”

Mrs. Schlessinger was evidently surprised that any one should want to wash in the middle of the day, but made no objections.

When Phil had washed his face and hands, he went out with Signor Orlando to dine at a restaurant on the Bowery.

CHAPTER VII.

Bowerman’s varieties.

The restaurant to which he was taken by Signor Orlando was thronged with patrons, for it was one o’clock.  On the whole, they did not appear to belong to the highest social rank, though they were doubtless respectable.  The table-cloths were generally soiled, and the waiters had a greasy look.  Phil said nothing, but he did not feel quite so hungry as before he entered.

The signor found two places at one of the tables, and they sat down.  Phil examined a greasy bill of fare and found that he could obtain a plate of meat for ten cents.  This included bread and butter, and a dish of mashed potato.  A cup of tea would be five cents additional.

“I can afford fifteen cents for a meal,” he thought, and called for a plate of roast beef.

“Corn beef and cabbage for me,” said the signor.

“It’s very filling,” he remarked aside to Phil.

“They won’t give you but a mouthful of beef.”

So it proved, but the quality was such that Phil did not care for more.  He ordered a piece of apple pie afterward feeling still hungry.

“I see you’re bound to have a square meal,” said the signor.

After Phil had had it, he was bound to confess that he did not feel uncomfortably full.  Yet he had spent twice as much as the signor, who dispensed with the tea and pie as superfluous luxuries.

In the evening Signor Orlando bent his steps toward Bowerman’s Varieties.

“I hope in a day or two to get a complimentary ticket for you, Mr. Brent,” he said.