The speaker, a boy of fourteen, stood in front of the shabby brick
building, on Nassau street, which has served for many years as the New
York post office. In front of him, as he stood with his back to the
building, was a small basket, filled with ordinary letter envelopes,
each labeled "Prize Package."

His attractive announcement, which, at that time, had also the merit of
novelty--for Paul had himself hit upon the idea, and manufactured the
packages, as we shall hereafter explain--drew around him a miscellaneous
crowd, composed chiefly of boys.

"What's in the packages, Johnny?" asked a bootblack, with his box
strapped to his back.

"Candy," answered Paul. "Buy one. Only five cents."

"There ain't much candy," answered the bootblack, with a disparaging
glance.

"What if there isn't? There's a prize."

"How big a prize?"

"There's a ten-cent stamp in some of 'em. All have got something in
'em."

Influenced by this representation, the bootblack drew out a five-cent
piece, and said: