It was a verity--no vain, hunger-inspired delusion--it was a silver dime! He snatched it--gloated over it; doubted it--bit it--found it genuine -- choked his heart down, and smothered a halleluiah.

Then he looked around--saw that nobody was looking at him--threw the dime down where it was before--walked away a few steps, and approached again, pretending he did not know it was there, so that he could re-enjoy the luxury of finding it.

He walked around it, viewing it from different points; then sauntered about with his hands in his pockets, looking up at the signs and now and then glancing at it and feeling the old thrill again.
Finally he took it up, and went away, fondling it in his pocket.

He idled through unfrequented streets, stopping in doorways and corners to take it out and look at it.

By and by he went home to his lodgings--an empty queens-ware hogshead,--and employed himself till night trying to make up his mind what to buy with it.