cktie this morning?"

"Not much," said Jim, laughing at the joke. "I've got my trunks stuffed
full of 'em at home, but I don't wear 'em only Sundays. Do you make much
money?"

"I expect to do pretty well."

"What made you give up sellin' prize packages?" asked Jim slyly.

"Customers like you," answered Paul.

Jim laughed.

"You didn't catch me that time you lost your basket," he said.

"That was a mean trick," said Paul, indignantly.

"You don't want to hire me to sell for you, do you?"

"That's where you're right. I don't."

"I'd like to go into the business."

"You'd better open a second-hand clothing store," suggested Paul,
glancing at his companion's ragged attire.

"Maybe I will," said Jim with a grin, "if you'll buy of me."

"I don't like the style," said Paul. "Who's your tailor?"

"He lives round in Chatham street. Say, can't you lend a fellow a couple
of shillin' to buy some breakfast?"

"Have you done any work to-day?"

"No."

"Then you can't expect to eat if you don't work."

"I didn't have no money to start with."

"Suppose you had a quarter, what would you do?"

"I'd buy a ten-cent plate of meat, and buy some evenin' papers with the
rest."

"If you'll do that, I'll give you what you ask for."

"You'll give me two shillin'?" repeated Jim, incredulously, for he
remembered how he had wronged Paul.

"Yes," said Paul. "Here's the money;" and he drew a twenty-five-cent
piece from his vest pocket, and handed it to Jim.

"You give me that after the mean trick I played you?" said Jim.

"Yes; I am sorry for you and want to help you along."

"You're a brick!" exclaimed Jim, emphatically. "If any feller tries to
play a trick on you, you just tell me, and I'll lam him."

"All right, Jim!" said Paul, kindly; "I'll remember it."

"There ain't anybody you want licked, is there?" asked Jim, earnestly.

"Not at present, thank you," said Paul, smiling.

"When you do, I'm on hand," said Jim. "Now I'll go and get some grub."

He shuffled along toward Ann street, where there was a cheap
eating-house, in which ten cents would pay for a plate of meat. He was
decidedly hungry, and did justice to the restaurant, whose style of
cookery, though not very choice, suited him so well that he could
readily have eaten three plates of meat instead of one, but for the
prudent thought that compelled him to reserve enough to embark in
business afterwards. Jim was certainly a hard ticket; but Paul's
unex