"That's a leadin' question," said Tom. "I never took any except at the Fifth Avenoo Hotel. They've got bully baths there." "Have they? Then I think you'd better go there now." "It's too far off, and I'm in a hurry. I'm invited to dine with the mayor, and I wouldn't like to go dirty." "If you bathe here, we shall charge you double price." "How much is that?" "Fifty cents." "Well, I am rich. I can afford it." "Money payable in advance." "All right," said Tom. "Here's fifty cents. I'm a young man of fortun', though I don't look like it. I've been boot-blackin' for a joke. When I come in to my money, I'll get shaved here regular." "You're a case," said the attendant, laughing. "That's so," said Tom. "Now, just show me the bath-tub, and give me a bar of soap, and I'll get my money's worth." The attendant led the way to the bath-room, first collecting the fifty cents which he had decided to charge. The water was turned on, and Tom went to work energetically to wash off the stains and dirt which, in the course of his street-life, he had contrived to accumulate. Tom never did anything by halves, and he set himself to work with a will, sparing neither strength nor soap. The result was that he effected a very great change for the better. "I wish I'd got some better clo'es to put on," he thought, as with reluctance he drew on the ragged attire which had served him for some months, getting more ragged and dirty every day. "I'll buy some as soon as I get out." He surveyed himself in the mirror and his long, unkempt locks attracted his attention. "I must have my hair cut," he decided. On his way out he saw a vacant chair, and seated himself in it. "Do you want to be shaved?" asked one of the barbers. "Not to-day," said Tom. "You may cut off some of my wool. Mind you give me a fashionable cut." "Oh, I'll take care of that," said the journeyman. "If you do what's right," said Tom, "I'll recommend all my friends on Fifth avenoo to come here." "Is that the Fifth avenue style of coat?" asked the barber, pointing to several large holes in Tom's most prominent article of dress. "It's a dress I wore to a masquerade ball last evenin'," said Tom. "I went in the character of a bootblack." "You made a pretty good imitation," said the knight of the scissors, who had already commenced operations on Tom's head. "That's what all the ladies told me," said Tom. "They said they wouldn't have knowed me from the genooine article." In about twenty minutes the task was completed. "How's that?" said the barber. Tom looked in the mirror, and hardly recognized his image, so much was it altered by the careful arrangement of his hair. "If it wasn't for the clo'es," he said, "I would think it was another boy." He paid his bill and left the hotel. "The next thing must be some new clo'es," he said to himself; "then I'll begin to feel respectable." CHAPTER VIII. THE EFFECT OF A NEW SUIT.