"Pay at the next desk," he said, handing the paper back.
"How much will it be?" asked Linyard.
"Ninety cents."
At the next window the man in charge put the advertisement on file
along with numerous others. Then he took the money the tar handed over,
and in return filled out a printed order entitling the bearer to receive
all letters bearing the address advertised, for ten days.
"It will go in to-morrow?" asked the tar.
"Certainly."
"Suppose we take a walk up the Bowery," suggested the sailor, when
they were once more outside. "It's early yet."
Richard readily consented. He had often heard his father speak of the
street--how beautiful it had been years ago, and how trade had taken
hold of it, and the boy was curious to see what it was like.
The thoroughfare was a revelation to him, just as it is to every one
seeing it for the first time. The shops huddled together, their
show-windows littered with articles of every description, the
second-hand establishments, the pawnbrokers, the peddlers and
street-stand merchants, who offered everything from shoelaces to
collars, books and trick novelties, were all decidedly new to him.
One stand in particular attracted his attention. It was laden with
choice books, at remarkably low prices.
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