he can make an honest living.  I feel a strong interest in his success, and am persuaded that wherever he is placed, he will show rare capacity and fidelity.  I wish it might be in your power to receive him into your own counting-room.  But, of course, that must be according to your convenience.  At any rate, may I rely on you to act a friendly part by my young friend, and to exert your influence toward procuring him a position elsewhere, if you cannot employ him yourself?  Anything that you may have it in your power to do for Herbert, I shall consider as a favor done to myself.

I have just left my daughter, who, with her family, is well.  Sincerely, your friend,
                                     James Carroll.”

“That is a very kind letter,” thought Herbert, gratefully.  “I hope it will do me good.”

He decided to call and deliver it the same forenoon.  If he had not been robbed of nearly the whole of his small capital, he would, first, have gone about the city, which was entirely new to him.  But, with less than four dollars between himself and utter destitution, he felt that he had no time for sight-seeing.  It was necessary that he should get to work as soon as possible.

He waited till ten o’clock, thinking it possible that the heads of the firm might not reach the counting-room till about that time.  It was now eight o’clock only.  He had two hours, therefore, to look about him.

“Shine yer boots?” said a ragged urchin, approaching, with a suggestive look at his soiled shoes.

It occurred to Herbert that it would be best to look as well as possible when visiting Godfrey.

“Ten cents.”

“It’s too much,” said Herbert, thinking how few dimes constituted his entire worldly wealth.

“Well, five, then,” said the bootblack, coming down to his regular price.

“Do you get much to do?” asked our hero.

“Some days I get considerable.”

“How much do you make?”

“Pleasant days I makes a dollar, but when it rains, there ain’t much to do.”

“How much do you have to pay for sleeping?”

“Six cents.”

“Six cents!” repeated Herbert, in surprise.  “Where can you get lodged for that?”

“At the lodgin’ house, corner of Fulton and Nassau Streets.”

“Well,” thought Herbert, “I needn’t starve.  If I can’t get anything better to do, I can buy a box of blacking and a brush, and set up in business for myself.”

To be sure, this would not be an agreeable occupation, but Herbert was bound to make a living by honest labor.  If one avenue was closed to him, he must enter such as were open to him.  He could not afford to be particular.

After his shoes were brushed, he crossed the park, and walked up Broadway.  It was a wonderful sight to the country-bred boy, this gay thoroughfare, with its busy and bustling crowds, and its throngs of vehicles, never ceasing wholly, save at the dead hours of night.  He thought to himself what a quantity of business there must be to do.  Certainly, there must be room for one more worker.  So, on the whole, the busy scene gave him courage, and he sauntered along as cheerfully as if he were not next-door to a beggar.