Robert listened keenly; the knife dropped from his hand; his very lips were white. He crept toward the door and darted down stairs. Flight after flight he descended at a sharp run, and then dashed into the street. No newsboy ever hoped for custom in that neighborhood; but around a far distant corner he saw one passing with a bundle of papers under his arm. With the speed of a deer Robert leaped along the pavement, shouting after the newsboy as he went. His cry, so shrill and desperate, arrested the lad, who paused for his customer to come up. “Oh I give me a paper!—give me a paper! My father was in the battle!” cried Robert, shaking from head to foot under the force of his anxiety. “All right,” answered the sharp boy—“all right; ten cents, and hurry up.” “I haven’t got the money; but my father was in the battle, and my sister is breaking her heart to know——” “Hand over a five, then, and be quick.” “I haven’t got a single cent; but my father is a soldier.” “Nary a red, ha! and keeping me like this. Oh! you get out. Business is business, and sogers is sogers; a fellow can’t let his heart wear holes in his jacket.” “But I want it so—I want it so.” The boy tore himself away from Robert’s feeble grasp, and went on shouting lustily for new customers, leaving the soldier’s son shivering in the street, his eyes full of tears, and his heart aching with pain. Robert stood a moment looking wistfully at the newspapers flitting away from him, and in his disappointment formed a new resolution. When his sister went out that morning, she had mentioned the name and address of a lady, celebrated for her energy in all charitable associations, and who was now the leading spirit of a grand fair for the benefit of the soldiers, which was soon to occupy fashionable attention. This lady might be at home. She owed his sister money for fancy articles made up for this fair. He would go and ask for enough to give them food; at any rate, to get a paper, which might tell how bravely his father’s regiment had fought. Again the boy started off at a rapid run, and now his course lay toward that part of the city which seems so far lifted above all the cares and privations of life that it is little wonder the poor are filled with envy when they creep out of their alleys and garrets to behold its splendor. They little know how many cares and heartaches may be found even in this favored quarter; and it is not remarkable that the outward contrast presented to them should often engender bitter feelings, and even intense hatred.