and I don't see why it can't be done as well in New York as in Lawrence
or Lowell. If New York is bigger, then there is more to be done." So
Peter, whose New York acquaintances were limited to Watts and four other
collegians, the Pierces and their fashionables, and a civil engineer
originally from his native town, had decided that the way to go about it
was to get an office, hang up a sign, and wait for clients.

On the morning after his arrival, his first object was a lodging.
Selecting from the papers the advertisements of several boarding-houses,
he started in search of one. Watts had told him about where to locate,
"so as to live in a decent part of the city," but after seeing and
pricing a few rooms near the "Avenue," about Thirtieth Street, Peter saw
that Watts had been thinking of his own purse, rather than of his
friend's.

"Can you tell me where the cheaper boarding-houses are?" he asked the
woman who had done the honors of the last house.

"If it's cheapness you want, you'd better go to Bleecker Street," said
the woman with a certain contemptuousness.

Peter thanked her, and, walking away, accosted the first policeman.

"It's Blaker Strate, is it? Take the Sixth Avenue cars, there beyant,"
he was informed.

"Is it a respectable street?" asked Peter.

"Don't be afther takin' away a strate's character," said the policeman,
grinning good-naturedly.