"Dear! dear! dear! he looks as if he had never in his life seen soap and water or a suit of whole clothes!" ejaculated the old gentleman, adding, kindly: "Yes, I reckon I will give you the job, my son!" "His son! Oh, crikey! do you hear that, fellows? His son? Oh, Lor'! my governor's turned up at last. I'm his son! oh, gemini! But what did I tell you! I always had a sort of impression that I must have had a father in some former period of my life; and, behold, here he is! Who knows but I might have had a mother also? But that isn't likely. Still, I'll ask him. How's the old woman, sir?" said the newsboy, jumping off the boxes and taking the carpet-bag in his hand. "What are you talking about, you infatuated tatterdemalion? Come along! If it weren't for pity I'd have you put in the pillory!" exclaimed Old Hurricane, shaking his cane at the offender. "Thanky, sir! I've not had a pillow under my head for a long time." "Silence, ragamuffin!" "Just so, sir! 'a dumb devil is better than a talking one!'" answered the lad, demurely following his employer. They went on some distance, Old Hurricane diligently reading the names of the streets at the corners. Presently he stopped again, bewildered, and after gazing around himself for a few minutes, said: "Boy!" "Yes, sir!" "Do you know such a place as Rag Alley in Manillo Street?" "Rag Alley, sir?" "Yes; a sort of narrow, dark, musty place, with a row of old, tumble-down tenements each side, where poor wretches live all huddled up together, fifty in a house, eh? I was told I couldn't drive up it in a carriage, so I had to walk. Do you know such a place?" "Do I know such a place! Do I know Rag Alley? Oh, my eye! Oh, he! he! he! he!" "What are you laughing at now, you miscellaneous assortment of variegated pieces?" "Oh! oh, dear! I was laughing to think how well I knew Rag Alley!" "Humph! you do look as if you were born and bred there." "But, sir, I wasn't!" "Humph! How did you get into life, then?" "I don't know, governor, unless I was raked up from the gutter by some old woman in the rag-picking line!" said the newsboy, demurely. "Humph. I think that quite likely! But now, do you say that you know where that alley is?" "Oh, don't set me off again! Oh, he! he! he! Yes, sir, I know." "Well, then, show me the way and don't be a fool!" "I'd scorn to be it, sir. This is the way!" said the lad, taking the lead. They walked on several squares, and then the boy stopped, and pointing down a cross-street, said: "There, governor; there you are." "There! Where? Why that's a handsome street!" said Old Hurricane, gazing up in admiration at the opposite blocks of stately brown-stone mansions. "That's it, hows'ever! That's Rag Alley. 'Tain't called Rag Alley now, though! It's called Hifalutin Terrace! Them tenements you talk of were pulled down more'n a year ago and these houses put up in their place," said the newsboy.