In New York the ending is quite different--indeed the vagabond boy has better opportunities than the good boy. For in New York he loafs about gin mills, and he has the advantages of free lunches, an institution unknown in Paris, and the good old ladies get up excursions for him, and give him sandwiches and ice cream, in the hopes of reaching his better nature through the medium of his stomach, they firmly believing there is a better nature, and as it has never been seen it must be in the stomach. In time he grows up and gets as far along as to have that blessed boon of the ballot, and becomes useful to the politicians, who transfer him from the front of the bar to the back of it, and he has a gin mill of his own, and controls votes, and "hez inflooence in my warrud." When his "inflooence" is sufficient, he boldly demands office for himself and becomes a School Commissioner, or an Alderman, and finally goes to the Legislature and waxes enormously rich, and his wife--for this sort of a fellow marries when he gets off the streets and has a gin mill of his own--wears diamonds and has a carriage. It was Teddy McShane, and Mickey O'Finnegan, two of this class, who got into the Board of Aldermen of New York. Alderman McShane had heard of gondolas and wanted a few in the little lakes in the park, for, of course, had his motion prevailed he would have got his commission from the builder thereof. And so he spoke:-- "Misther Prisidint--We cannot be too liberal in ornamintin' our parruks. A parruk is for the paple, and they should be ornamintid. To this ind, I move ye sorr, that twinty gondolas be purchast for the lakes in Cintril Parruk to-wanst." Alderman McFinnegan, who saw a job in this, decided to oppose it till McShane should come to him and propose a divide. And so he said:-- "Misther Prisidint--No man in New Yorrick will go furdther in ornamintin' the city than mesilf; but the paple's money musht not be squandered. Why buy twinty gondolas, to-wanst? Why not buy two--a male and a faymale, and breed thim ourselves?" [Sidenote: A CONTENTED BEING.] The Parisian gamin can do nothing of this kind--indeed, it is impossible in Paris, and he would not want to do it if it were possible. He does not care for money; he does not long for houses and lands or a fixed habitation. If he had the best house in Paris, with silken beds and all that sort of thing, the second night he would steal away and sleep comfortably under an arch, or in one of his accustomed places. He is very like one of the chiefs of the Onondaga Indians, who was persuaded to build him a house in the civilized fashion. He slept in it one night and the next morning broke every pane of glass out of the windows. That night he slumbered with the rain and sleet pouring in upon him, and was happy. That was something like.