Guy Hammersley; or, Clearing his Name — page 132: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

GUY HAMMERSLEY. 123 paper buildings, in front of the bustling entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge, and between rows of importu- nate street fakirs, till he came to the designated num- ber. And glancing in at the window to see the nature of the business, he recoiled in a sort of horror for it was a pawnbroker’s shop. ‘‘No, no, not there,” he said to himself, as he turned and hurried away ; and then, as he realized what slow progress he was making, he could not but add the reflection : ‘‘ I may be ae to resort there soon enough.” The third advertisement was that of Hampton & Pitcher, harness merchants in Chambers Street. A life size wooden horse, rigged out with specimens of the blankets, halters and so on, sold within, stood in frontof thedoor. Thesmell of the leather recalled strongly to Guy his summers in the West when a boy, and he had owned a pony cart in which he used to drive about the shaded avenues of Glendale. A man ina yellow duster came up to him as he entered, evidently under the impression that he had come as a purchaser. **You advertised for a boy in this morning’s paper,” began Guy, upon which the other interposed with: ‘* Yes; see Mr. Hampton in the rear office.” Cheered not a little by the fact that he was to get as far as the interview, Guy walked to the back of the store and accosted a youngish man, with very black hair, who was seated at a desk under a sky- licht. «Yes, we do want a young man,” was the prompt teply to his question, ‘‘We’ve had no end of appli- GEomichboo “S (E(@) m =>