o remind Frank of what you were when he first
saw you."

"Is it good enough to send?" asked Dick, anxiously.

"Yes; it seems to me to be quite a good letter. It is written just
as you talk. Nobody but you could have written such a letter, Dick.
I think Frank will be amused at your proposal to come up there as
teacher."

"P'r'aps it would be a good idea for us to open a seleck school here
in Mott Street," said Dick, humorously. "We could call it 'Professor
Fosdick and Hunter's Mott Street Seminary.' Boot-blackin' taught by
Professor Hunter."

The evening was so far advanced that Dick decided to postpone
copying his letter till the next evening. By this time he had come
to have a very fair handwriting, so that when the letter was
complete it really looked quite creditable, and no one would have
suspected that it was Dick's first attempt in this line. Our hero
surveyed it with no little complacency. In fact, he felt rather
proud of it, since it reminded him of the great progress he had
made. He carried it down to the post-office, and deposited it with
his own hands in the proper box. Just on the steps of the building,
as he was coming out, he met Johnny Nolan, who had been sent on an
errand to Wall Street by some gentleman, and was just returning.

"What are you doin' down here, Dick?" asked Johnny.

"I've been mailin' a letter."

"Who sent you?"

"Nobody."

"I mean, who writ the letter?"

"I wrote it myself."

"Can you write letters?" asked Johnny, in amazement.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"I didn't know you could write. I can't."

"Then you ought to learn."

"I went to school once; but it was too hard work, so I give it up."

"You're lazy, Johnny,--that's what's the matter. How'd you ever
expect to know anything, if you don't try?"

"I can't learn."

"You can, if you want to."

Johnny Nolan was evidently of a different opinion. He was a
good-natured boy, large of his age, with nothing particularly bad
about him, but utterly lacking in that energy, ambition, and natural
sharpness, for which Dick was distinguished. He was not adapted to
succeed in the life which circumstances had forced upon him; for in
the street-life of the metropolis a boy needs to be on the alert,
and have all his wits about him, or he will find himself wholly
distanced by his more enterprising competitors for popular favor. To
succeed in his profession, humble as it is, a boot-black must depend
upon the same qualities which gain s