"I had a piece of bread."
"Was that all?"
"Yes,"
"Could you eat a plate of meat if I gave you some?"
"Try me and see," was the reply.
"Come in, then," said Paul.
"Will you pay for it?" asked the young Arab, almost incredulous.
"Yes, I will pay for it."
The boy waited for no further assurance. He was not in a position to refuse so advantageous a proposal. He shuffled in, therefore, directly behind Paul.
It was not an aristocratic eating-house, but its guests were well-dressed, and the ragged boy at once attracted unfavorable attention.
"Get out of here!" said a waiter.
"He told me to come in," said the boy, beginning to tremble at the thought of losing the proffered dinner.
Paul, at whom he pointed, was known at the restaurant.
"Did this boy come in with you?" asked the waiter.
"Yes," said Paul; "he's going to dine with me."
"All right."
The waiter was rather surprised at Paul's selection of a table companion, but payment being thus guaranteed, could interpose no further objections.
"Sit down there, Johnny," said Paul, indicating a seat at one of the side tables and taking the seat opposite himself.
"Now what'll you have?" he asked, handing his young guest the bill of fare.
The young Arab took it, and holding it upside down, looked at it in perplexity.
"I can't read," said he, handing it back.
"I suppose you can eat, though," said Paul. "What'll you have?"
"Anything that's good; I ain't pertikler," said the boy.
"Do you like stewed oysters?"
The boy eagerly replied in the affirmative.
"Stewed oysters for two," ordered Paul. "That'll do to begin on, Johnny. What's your real name?"
"Julius."
"Anything else?"
"That's all the name I know."
"You can take another when you need it. Did you ever hear of Julius Caesar?"
"Yes," said the boy.
Paul was a little surprised to discover the boy's range of historical information.
"What do you know about him?" he asked.
"I don't know him; I've seed him," said the boy.
"Where have you seen him?" asked Paul, rather astonished.
"Down in Baxter street."
"Does he live there?" asked Paul.
"Yes; he keeps a barber shop there."
Evidently the young Arab supposed that Julius Caesar, colored barber, within the precincts of the Five Points, was the one referred to by his questioner. Paul did not explain to him his mistake.
"Have you got any father or mother?"
"No," said the boy.
"Where do you live?"
"In Centre street."
"What do you do for a living?"
"Sometimes I black boots; sometimes I beg."
"Who do you live with?"
"Jack Morgan."
"Is he any relation to you?"
"I dunno," answered the boy.
The conversation was here interrupted. The stews were placed on the table, with a plate of crackers.