sle-thread under an elastic all day, and the
thermometer not a degree under 85 in the store."

"I never heard of a pocketbook like that," says I. "Who carried
you?"

"A shopgirl," says the five-spot.

"What's that?" I had to ask.

"You'll never know till their millennium comes," says the fiver.

Just then a two-dollar bill behind me with a George Washington head,
spoke up to the fiver:

"Aw, cut out yer kicks. Ain't lisle thread good enough for yer? If
you was under all cotton like I've been to-day, and choked up with
factory dust till the lady with the cornucopia on me sneezed half a
dozen times, you'd have some reason to complain."

That was the next day after I arrived in New York. I came in a $500
package of tens to a Brooklyn bank from one of its Pennsylvania
correspondents--and I haven't made the acquaintance of any of the
five and two spot's friends' pocketbooks yet. Silk for mine, every
time.

I was lucky money. I kept on the move. Sometimes I changed hands
twenty times a day. I saw the inside of every business; I fought for
my owner's every pleasure. It seemed that on Saturday nights I never
missed being slapped down on a bar. Tens were always slapped down,
while ones and twos were slid over to the bartenders folded. I got
in the habit of looking for mine, and I managed to soak in a little
straight or some spilled Martini or Manhattan whenever I could.
Once I got tied up in a great greasy roll of bills in a pushcart
peddler's jeans. I thought I never would get in circulation again,
for the future department store owner lived on eight cents' worth
of dog meat and onions a day. But this peddler got into trouble one
day on account of having his cart too near a crossing, and I was
rescued. I always will feel grateful to the cop that got me. He
changed me at a cigar store near the Bowery that was running a crap
game in the back room. So it was the Captain of the precinct, after
all, that did me the best turn, when he got his. He blew me for wine
the next evening in a Broadway restaurant; and I really felt as glad
to get back again as an Astor does when he sees the lights of
Charing Cross.

A tainted ten certainly does get action on Broadway. I was alimony
once, and got folded in a little dogskin purse among a lot of dimes.
They were bragging about the busy times there were in Ossining
whenever three girls got hold of one of them during the ice cream
season. But it's Slow Moving Vehicles Keep to the Righ