After supper was over, Mr. O’Connor said: “Boys, this is the last time you will be all together. To-morrow probably many of you will set out for new homes. Now, how shall we pass the time?”

“A speech from Corny Donovan!” cried one boy.

“Speech from Corny!” was heard from all parts of the hall.

“Corny, have you anything to say to the boys?” asked the superintendent, smiling.

Corny was a short, wiry little fellow, apparently² twelve, but in reality two years older. He was noted³ among the boys for his drollery⁴, and frequently amused them with his oratory⁵. He came forward with a twinkle of merriment in his eye.

“The Honorable Corny Donovan will speak to the meetin’,” said Julius, acting⁶ as temporary chairman.

Corny took his place on the platform, and with perfect gravity took out a small, red handkerchief, and blew his nose explosively, in imitation of a gentleman who once addressed the boys at the Lodging⁷ House. The boys greeted this commencement with vociferous⁸ applause.

“Go in, Corny!” “Spit it out!” were heard from different parts of the hall.

“Boys,” said Corny, extending his right arm horizontally, “I’ve come here from my manshun in Fifth Avenoo to give you some good advice. You’re poor miserable⁹ bummers, ivery mother’s son of you. You don’t know much anyhow. Once’t I was as poor as you.” (“Hi; hi!” shouted his

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