As he said this he found that he was speaking to a young buxom and healthy woman who looked as if she might be the wife of some prosperous farmer. He saw also that she had been driving very fast, for her horse was panting and wheezing very much after the manner of the horses of New York that were used to bring the afternoon papers from Park Row to the upper part of the city. She looked down at the ragged boy who stood by her wheel with the red shawl thrown over his arm and then she smiled in what the little newsboy thought was a wonderfully sweet and winning way, and still smiling, she said: “Yes that is my shawl. I lost it about three quarters of an hour ago and I was so afraid that somebody would pick it up and make off with it that I just drove back as fast as I could, to get it. Where did you find it?” “Along dere a little ways,” replied the boy indicating with his right hand the direction from which he had come. “And who are you little boy, and where do you come from?” continued the lady still smiling pleasantly. “Oh I was just out for a walk,” replied Skinny with his accustomed air of careless bravado, but just then he happened to remember the role that he was assuming, and he added with great haste “I taut mebbe I could get a job some’rs around here. I want work, dat’s wot I want.” Having said this he politely handed his new acquaintance her shawl and stood regarding her critically through his keen blue eyes. The young lady in her turn subjected the boy to a scrutiny that was as careful as that with which he regarded her and in a moment or two she said “If you will get into the carriage with me I will take you down to my house and perhaps my husband will find something for you to do. At any rate, he will give you something for finding the shawl.” “I don’t want nuthin’ for lettin’ go de shawl. I wanter get a job of some kind ernuther. I tink I’d like ter try a little country life.”