The heavens seemed to smile upon him; he felt that he was God's own child, and repeated solemnly, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, _give us this day our daily bread_," his heart was comforted; and he descended the dark stair-case with the same feeling of security as if he had pressed the hand of his Heavenly Father guiding him safely along. When he reached the church, he found it locked; he had stayed so long, the sexton had forgotten him, but he was not afraid--afraid in God's dear house, with the soft, sweet moon shining on him through the stained window-glass! Oh! no--there was a sense of sweet security pervading his heart, and, laying himself down in one of the cushioned pews, he slept the sleep of perfect security in the Father above. Locked up until the time for the morning service, the sexton was both surprised and displeased at the sight of the tenant in rich Mr. Seldin's pew. Roland apologized, but the old man was surly, and hurried him out of the church. He was hungry and thirsty, so the first thing that he sought was some food. Furnishing himself with some crackers and cheese, and refreshing himself with a drink of water, he commenced his first day's battle with life. Up and down the long, crowded streets, in the stores, at the offices, along the wharves, he sought in vain for some employment. Hundreds of just such applications were refused daily. All asked the name of some friend, he had none to give but Dr. Kingsley. Some smiled at his answers when asked what he could do. "He could keep books, copy law-papers, go errands, clean pavements, sweep out offices, any thing that would give him the means of an honest livelihood." Night came, but without a shelter. It was late, and he was weary, so, turning into one of the market-houses, he had no other resource. On one of the stalls lay a poor boy, pale and emaciated. Roland saw that he was sick, so placing his valise under his head, over which he had thrown some soft garment, he laid himself down to sleep by his brother's side. "He has more need than I," thought Roland, as he resigned the softer pillow to the poor boy. Presently a police-officer came along. "What are you about here, you young rascals? Have you been out on a plundering job?" Roland raised his head and said, "I do not think, sir, that you will find this poor boy to be a vagrant; and, as for myself, I am poor and homeless, that is all." "New York is a bad place for a young chap like you to be in, without a home." "I know it, sir; I have walked all day, searching for work, but have found none; can you tell me what to do?" "I saw an advertisement for a boy in a printer's office, perhaps you may do; but I am afraid that you are too old." "If you will be so good as to give me the direction, I will go in the morning, and see what success I shall have."