Bert Hampton, the newsboy, stood trying in vain to sell the last _Extra_
left on his hands by the dull business of the morning.

An old man, with a face that looked pinched, and who was dressed in a
seedy black coat, stopped at the same doorway, and, with one hand on the
latch, he appeared to hesitate between hunger and a sense of poverty,
before going in.

It was possible, however, that he was considering whether he could
afford himself the indulgence of a morning paper, seeing it was
Thanksgiving day; so at least Bert thought, and addressed him
accordingly:--

"Buy a paper, sir? All about the fire in East Boston, and arrest of
safe-burglars in Springfield. Only two cents."

The little old man looked at the boy, with keen gray eyes which seemed
to light up the pinched look of his face, and answered in a shrill
voice:--

"You ought to come down in your price, this time of day. You can't
expect to sell a morning paper at 12 o'clock for full price."

"Well, give me a cent, then," said Bert. "That's less than cost; but
never mind. I'm bound to sell out, anyhow."

[Illustration: "_Buy a paper, sir_?"]

"You look cold," said the old man.