he had got much nearer the boy, after all. Certainly he formed no adequate idea of the avidity and thoroughness with which Lemuel was learning his Boston. It was wholly a Public Boston which unfolded itself during the winter to his eager curiosity, and he knew nothing of the social intricacies of which it seems solely to consist for so many of us. To him Boston society was represented by the coteries of homeless sojourners in the St. Albans; Boston life was transacted by the ministers, the lecturers, the public meetings, the concerts, the horse-cars, the policemen, the shop-windows, the newspapers, the theatres, the ships at the docks, the historical landmarks, the charity apparatus. The effect was a ferment in his mind in which there was nothing clear. It seemed to him that he had to change his opinions every day. He was whirled round and round; he never saw the same object twice the same. He did not know whether he learned or unlearned most. With the pride that comes to youth from the mere novelty of its experiences was mixed a shame for his former ignorance, an exasperation at his inability to grasp their whole meaning. His activities in acquainting himself with Boston interested Evans, who tried to learn just what his impression was; but this was the last thing that Lemuel could have distinctly imparted. “Well, upon the whole,” he asked, one day, “what do you think? From what you've seen of it, which is the better place, Boston or Willoughby Pastures? If you were friendless and homeless, would you rather be cast away in the city or in the country?” Lemuel did not hesitate about this. “In the city! They haven't got any idea in the country what's done to help folks along in the city!” “Is that so?” asked Evans. “It's against tradition,” he suggested. “Yes, I know that,” Lemuel assented. “And in the country they think the city is a place where nobody cares for you, and everybody is against you, and wants to impose upon you. Well, when I first came to Boston,” he continued with a consciousness of things that Evans did not betray his own knowledge of, “I thought so too, and I had a pretty hard time for a while. It don't seem as if people _did_ care for you, except to make something out of you; but if any one happens to find out that you're in trouble, there's ten times as much done for you in the city as there is in the country.” “Perhaps that's because there are ten times as many to do it,” said Evans, in the hope of provoking this impartial spirit further. “No, it isn't that altogether. It's because they've seen ten times as much trouble, and know how to take hold of it better. I think our folks in the country have been flattered up too much. If some of them could come down here and see how things are carried on, they would be surprised. They wouldn't believe it if you told them.” “I didn't know we were so exemplary,” said Evans. “Oh, city folks have their faults too,” said Lemuel, smiling in recognition of the irony. “No! What?”