"I'm goin' to sell newspapers if I can get some with this," he
replied, opening his hand to show her the extent of his resources.

She was almost as poor as he was, but not quite. She looked him over
curiously for a moment, and then fumbled in her pocket. She drew out
two ten-cent pieces and considered them, hesitating. Then she looked
again at him. That normal expression in his nice ten-year-old eyes
had its suggestive effect.

"You take this," she said, handing him the two pieces. "It'll help
you to start."

"I'll bring it back, ma'am," said Tem. "Thank you, Mis' Hullingworth."

In about two weeks' time he did bring it back. That was the beginning.
He lived through all the experiences a small boy waif and stray
would be likely to come in contact with. The abnormal class treated
him ill, and the normal class treated him well. He managed to get
enough food to eat to keep him from starvation. Sometimes he slept
under a roof and much oftener out-of-doors. He preferred to sleep out-
of-doors more than half of the year, and the rest of the time he did
what he could. He saw and learned many strange things, but was not
undermined by vice because he unconsciously preferred decency. He
sold newspapers and annexed any old job which appeared on the horizon.
The education the New York streets gave him was a liberal one. He
became accustomed to heat and cold and wet weather, but having sound
lungs and a tough little body combined with the normal tendencies
already mentioned, he suffered no more physical deterioration than a
young Indian would suffer. After selling newspapers for two years he
got a place as "boy" in a small store. The advance signified by