over, and in the morning you can tell us
which plan you like best."

Archie wanted to ask for a few days' absence to return home, but he
felt, somehow, that he ought not to ask it just now. So he contented
himself with writing a long letter to his mother, in which he enclosed a
very large check, money which he had not used on his return to New York.
He told her that he would be home just as soon as he could get off for
any length of time, and he knew that she would now be looking forward to
the visit every day. She had written him about the enthusiasm displayed
by every one over his achievements, and how proud she was of what he
had accomplished. "I think I am the proudest mother in the country," she
wrote one day, and this sentence made Archie very happy, of course, and
more anxious than ever to return home. He received a letter, too, from
Jack Sullivan, telling him how much the boys all thought of his success,
and how every member of the Hut Club had longed time and again to be
with him. "It all reads just like some book," Jack wrote, "and we are
dying to have you come home and tell us all about it." Then his mother
sent him clippings from the town papers, eulogising his efforts, and
calling him the "coming man of the State." All this was very pleasant
and very encouraging, and Archie couldn't help having a kindly feeling
for the townsfolk who thought so much of him.

New York was as delightful as ever. It was now the last of April, and
the trees were all green with fresh leaves, and the numerous little
parks scattered over the city were looking their very best. The asphalt
pavements looked clean and elegant when Archie thought of some other
streets he had seen, and the tall office buildings lifted their ornate
domes and cupolas into a sky of clear blue. "Surely," he thought to
himself, "this is the most charming city in all the world." Fifth
Avenue, with its crowds of fashionable folk, and its throng of vehicles,
was a delight of which he never tired, and when he went into the
Bowery, just to see how things were looking now, he found it quite as
interesting and as dirty as in the fall.

But the first place he visited was the dear little square away
down-town, where he had lived during those few happy days spent in New
York. It, too, looked the same, only the flowers and grass were fresher
now, and the fountain seemed to flow more joyously, now that spring was
here. The house where he had lodged was as clean as ever