CHAPTER VIII.
A PEEP INTO THE POOR RICH MAN'S HOUSE.
As our readers may have anticipated, Susan at once entered into Harry's views; and, in a short time, she and her family were transferred to a part of a small house in Broome-street, in New-York. One room served as kitchen, parlour, and bedroom. It was furnished only with articles of the first necessity. There was a snug little bedroom for Uncle Phil, which he said suited him exactly; and a comfortable, good-sized one for Charlotte, with a neat, rag carpet on it, "because Lottie suffered with cold feet;" and a fireplace in it, "for Lottie must have a fire when she had sick turns;" and two windows, "for all Lottie's living was fresh air;" and the only bureau and the only rocking-chair were in Charlotte's room, because, as she said, "Susy had always some good reason at hand for giving her the best of every thing."
Our friends were undeniably what the world calls poor. But they had affection, intelligence, temperance, contentment, and godliness. Were they poor? We shall see. In the meantime, let us see if there is not some misuse of terms in this world. Morris Finley had "got in on the world." He had so far secured his main chance, that he was engaged in profitable business. He lived in
