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Show In Luck. A broker stepped out of the Broad street door of the Stock Exchange recently, re-cently, apparently after having made some money. He espied a little mite of a ragged newsboy not three feet high, and a philanthropic notion took pos?es-sion pos?es-sion of him. He caught up the little bunch of rags, and carrying it to a cigar stand procured an empty cigar box. This ho placed in the dazed boy's hands. Then the broker dashed into the Exchange Ex-change with a wild whoop that directed general attention to him. Instantly he was surrounded by a crowd, and Broker Dick Halstead threw a coin into the box, seized the boy, passed him to J, W. Bass, who also passed him on after dropping drop-ping a contribution into the box. Coins and bills began to rain into it. The Sugar trust crowd was invaded, then the New England crowd, and the pile of money in the box grew rapidly. The yells, the sight of the money and the general novelty of his trip were beyond the little fellow's comprehension." lie simply stared blankly. Finally be was released. There must have been $50 in the box. He shot out of the exchange, and was last seen running up Nassau street, hugging the box tightly to his breast. Who he was, where he lived, or what he would do with his fortune no one knew. New York Times ' |