"No, I didn't; and sometimes I only had one meal a day."
"That isn't a very nice way to live. You're so old now you ought to be considering what you'll do when you are a man."
"I mean to earn more than five dollars a week then."
"So do I; but if I were a street boy, picking up my living by blacking boots or selling papers, I shouldn't expect to. Now we have a chance to learn business, and improve."
"Were you ever a street boy?" asked Sam, becoming interested in his companion's history.
"No, that is, not over a month. I was born in the country."
"So was I," said Sam.
"My father and mother both died, leaving nothing, and the people wanted to send me to the poorhouse; but I didn't like that, so I borrowed five dollars and came to New York. When I got here I began to think I should have to go back again. I tried to get a place and couldn't. Finally, I bought some papers and earned a little money selling them. It was better than nothing; but all the while I was hoping to get a place. One day, as I was passing the store where I am now, I saw some boys round the door. I asked them what was going on. They told me that Hamilton & Co. had advertised for an errand boy, and they were going to try for the place. I thought I might as well try, too, so I went in and applied. I don't know how it was, but out of about forty boys they took me."
"Did they give you five dollars a week right off?"
"No; I only got three dollars the first year," answered Henry.