"I was a clerk in a Pearl Street store," said Sam.

"Are you visiting Boston on business?"

"Yes, ma'am. I shall try to find a place here."

"I hope you may succeed."

"Thank you, ma'am."

By this time breakfast was over, and Sam rose.

"I think I'll be going," he said.

Julia did not seek to detain him. The fact was, that after her absence there were quite a number of things she wanted to do, among others to unpack her trunk.

"What hotel are you going to stop at?" she inquired.

"I haven't made up my mind," answered Sam, embarrassed. He well knew that it would be very foolish for him to engage board at a first-class hotel.

"Parker's is a good hotel," suggested Julia. "It's on School Street, not far from here."

"I would recommend a boarding-house," said Mrs. Stockton. "The Parker House is expensive, and, if Mr. Barker is going to stay for some time he may wish to get along more economically."

"I think I shall," said Sam.

"Be sure and call again," said Julia, extending her hand.

"We shall be glad to see you again, Mr. Barker," said Mrs. Stockton, cordially. "Mr. Stockton will wish to thank you for your attention to Julia."

Sam thanked her, and went out into the street. He had enjoyed a good breakfast, and been cordially received by a lady who evidently stood high socially; and these circumstances contributed to put him in good spirits.

"I like Boston," he thought. "The people take more notice of a fellow than they do in New York."

Sam was generalizing upon his very limited experience, and perhaps might be led hereafter to change his views.

"Julia spoke of Parker's Hotel," he said to himself. "I guess I'll inquire where it is, and take a look at it."

"Where is Parker's Hotel?" he asked of a boy who overtook him near the State House.

"It's on School Street. I'm going as far as Tremont Street myself, and you can come along with me," answered the boy.

"Thank you," said Sam. "I am a stranger in Boston, and don't know my way."

"Are you going to stop at Parker's?"

"I don't think I shall; I am afraid they will charge too much."

"It's pretty high-priced," said his new acquaintance.

"Do you know what they charge for a room?"

"A dollar and a half and two dollars a day--that is, for the common rooms."

"That's too much for me."

"Then you've got your meals to pay for besides."

"I shall try to find a boarding-house," said Sam. "Do you know of any?"

"There's an acquaintance of mine, a clerk, who boards on Harrison Avenue."

"Where is that?".

"Not far from Washington Street--up near the Boston and Albany depot."

"Is it near the depot where I came in from New York?"

"How did you come?"

"By the Fall River line."

"Then it isn't far away. I'll give you the number if you want it."

"I wish you would."

"Here's Tremont Street," said the guide, "and that is the Parker House."

"Thank you," said Sam.

He went into the hotel, and, ascending a short staircase, found himself in the office. On one side was a writing-room, on the other a reading-room.

"It looks like a good hotel," thought Sam. "I should like it if I could afford to stay here."

Sam went into the reading-room, and saw lying on a chair a file of a New York paper. It seemed in this strange place like a familiar friend. He was reading the local news, when some one addressed him in a nasal voice: "I say, yeou, do yeou live round here?"

CHAPTER XXIII.

SAM FINDS A ROOMMATE.

Looking up, Sam's glance rested on a young man, of rustic dress and manners, which made him seem quite out of place in a fashionable hotel.

"No," answered Sam. "I am a stranger in Boston. I came from New York."

"You don't say! It's an all-fired big city, isn't it?" said the countryman.

"It is very large," said Sam, patronizingly.