CHAPTER VIII.
A STRANGE ACQUAINTANCE.
Tom Cooper was too familiar with the streets of New York to pay any
attention to the moving panorama of which he and Ben formed a part.
But everything was new and interesting to Ben, who had passed his
life in a quiet country town.
"I should think it was the Fourth of July," he said.
"Why?" asked the bootblack.
"Because there's such a lot of people and wagons in the streets."
"There's always as many as this, except Sundays," said Tom.
"Where do they all come from?" said Beu wonderingly.
"You've got me there," answered Tom. "I never thought about that.
Look out!" he exclaimed suddenly, dragging Ben from in front of a
team coming up the street. "Do you want to get run over?"
"I was looking the other way," said Ben, rather confused.
"You've got to look all ways to once here," said Tom.
"I guess you're right. Don't people often get run over?"
"Once in a while. There's a friend of mine--Patsy Burke--a newsboy,
was run over last year and had his leg broke. They took him to
Bellevue Hospital, and cut it off."
"Is he alive now?"
"Oh, yes, he's alive and to work, the same as ever.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54