"You don't say!" "Yes, I do." "You've got most enough to buy a farm a'ready." "I aint goin' to buy till I can buy a good one." "What's the name of this street?" "West Broadway." They were really upon West Broadway by this time, that being as direct a line as any to Bleecker Street. "You see that store," said Ben. "Yes; what's the matter of it?" "I don't own it _now_," said Ben. "I sold it, cos the tenants didn't pay their rent reg'lar." "I should think you'd dress better if you've got so much money," said the old lady, not unnaturally. "What's the use of wearin' nice clo'es round among the wharves?" said Ben. "There's suthin in that. I tell my darter Jane--she lives in the country--that it's no use dressin' up the children to go to school,--they're sure to get their clo'es tore and dirty afore they get home." So Ben beguiled the way with wonderful stories, with which he played upon the old lady's credulity. Of course it was wrong; but a street education is not very likely to inspire its pupils with a reverence for truth; and Ben had been knocking about the streets of New York, most of the time among the wharves, for six years. His street education had commenced at the age of ten. He had adopted it of his own free will. Even now there was a comfortable home waiting for him; there were parents who supposed him dead, and who would have found a difficulty in recognizing him under his present circumstances. In the next chapter a light will be thrown upon his past history, and the reader will learn how his street life began. CHAPTER II. HOW BEN COMMENCED HIS STREET LIFE. One pleasant morning, six years before the date at which this story commences, a small coasting-vessel drew up at a North River pier in the lower part of the city. It was loaded with freight, but there was at least one passenger on board. A boy of ten, dressed in a neat jacket and pants of gray-mixed cloth, stood on deck, watching with interest the busy city which they had just reached. "Well, bub, here we are," said the captain as he passed. "I suppose you know your way home." "Yes, sir." "Are you going on shore now?" "Yes, sir." "Well, good luck to you, my lad. If you are ever down this way, when I'm in port, I shall be glad to see you." "Thank you, sir; good-by." "Good-by." Ben clambered over the side, and stepped upon the wharf. In the great city he knew no one, and he was an utter stranger to the streets, never before having visited it. He was about to begin life for himself at the age of ten. He had voluntarily undertaken to support himself, leaving behind him a comfortable home, where he had been well cared for. I must explain how this came about.