"Where is Fulton Street?" asked Ben, catching the last name. "I'm goin' that way. You can go with me if you want to." Ben readily accepted the companionship proffered, and was led past the museum, the site of which, as I have said, is now occupied by the Herald Building. Turning down Fulton Street, Ben soon saw a restaurant, with bills of fare displayed outside. "That's a good place," said his guide. "Thank you," said Ben. He scanned the bill in advance, ascertaining to his satisfaction that he could obtain a plate of roast beef for fifteen cents, and a cup of coffee for five. This would make but twenty cents, leaving him a balance of two cents. He opened the door and entered. There was a long table running through the centre of the apartment, from the door to the rear. On each side, against the sides of the room, were small tables intended for four persons each. There were but few eating, as the busy time at down-town restaurants usually extends from twelve to half-past one, or two o'clock, and it was now nearly three. Ben entered and took a seat at one of the side tables, laying his bundle on a chair beside him. A colored waiter came up, and stood awaiting his orders. "Give me a plate of roast beef," said Ben. "Yes, sir. Coffee or tea?" "Coffee." The waiter went to the lower end of the dining-room, and called out, "Roast beef." After a brief delay, he returned with the article ordered, and a cup of coffee. There were two potatoes with the meat, and a small piece of bread on the side of the plate. The coffee looked muddy, and not particularly inviting. Ben was not accustomed to the ways of restaurants, and supposed that, as in shops, immediate payment was expected. "Here's the money--twenty cents," he said, producing the sum named. "Pay at the desk as you go out," said the waiter. Ben looked up, and then for the first time noticed a man behind a counter in the front part of the room. At the same time the waiter produced a green ticket, bearing "20 cents" printed upon it. Ben now addressed himself with a hearty appetite to the dinner. The plate was dingy, and the meat neither very abundant nor very tender. Still it can hardly be expected that for fifteen cents a large plate of sirloin can be furnished. Ben was not in a mood to be critical. At home he would have turned up his nose at such a repast, but hunger is very well adapted to cure one of fastidiousness. He ate rapidly, and felt that he had seldom eaten anything so good. He was sorry there was no more bread, the supply being exceedingly limited. As for the coffee he was able to drink it, though he did not enjoy it so well. It tasted as if there was not more than a teaspoonful of milk in the infusion, while the flavor of the beverage differed strangely from the coffee he had been accustomed to get at home. "It isn't very good," thought Ben; and he could not help wishing he had a cup of the good coffee his mother used to make at home.