Ragged Dick, Or, Street Life in New York with the Boot-Blacks by Jr. Horatio Alger (free ebooks for android .txt) đ
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «Ragged Dick, Or, Street Life in New York with the Boot-Blacks by Jr. Horatio Alger (free ebooks for android .txt) đ». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
âDonât!â exclaimed Micky, in alarm.
âIt seems you donât like agreeable sâprises,â said Dick, âany moreân the man did what got hooked by a cow one morninâ, before breakfast. It didnât improve his appetite much.â
âIâve most broke my arm,â said Micky, ruefully, rubbing the affected limb.
âIf itâs broke you canât fire no more stones, which is a very cheerinâ reflection,â said Dick. âEf you havenât money enough to buy a wooden one Iâll lend you a quarter. Thereâs one good thing about wooden ones, they aint liable to get cold in winter, which is another cheerinâ reflection.â
âI donât want none of yer cheerinâ reflections,â said Micky, sullenly. âYer company aint wanted here.â
âThank you for your polite invitation to leave,â said Dick, bowing ceremoniously. âIâm willinâ to go, but ef you throw any more stones at me, Micky Maguire, Iâll hurt you worse than the stones did.â
The only answer made to this warning was a scowl from his fallen opponent. It was quite evident that Dick had the best of it, and he thought it prudent to say nothing.
âAs Iâve got a friend waitinâ outside, I shall have to tear myself away,â said Dick. âYouâd better not throw any more stones, Micky Maguire, for it donât seem to agree with your constitution.â
Micky muttered something which Dick did not stay to hear. He backed out of the alley, keeping a watchful eye on his fallen foe, and rejoined Henry Fosdick, who was awaiting his return.
âWho was it, Dick?â he asked.
âA particâlar friend of mine, Micky Maguire,â said Dick. âHe playfully fired a rock at my head as a mark of his âfection. He loves me like a brother, Micky does.â
âRather a dangerous kind of a friend, I should think,â said Fosdick. âHe might have killed you.â
âIâve warned him not to be so âfectionate another time,â said Dick.
âI know him,â said Henry Fosdick. âHeâs at the head of a gang of boys living at the Five-Points. He threatened to whip me once because a gentleman employed me to black his boots instead of him.â
âHeâs been at the Island two or three times for stealing,â said Dick. âI guess he wonât touch me again. Heâd rather get hold of small boys. If he ever does anything to you, Fosdick, just let me know, and Iâll give him a thrashing.â
Dick was right. Micky Maguire was a bully, and like most bullies did not fancy tackling boys whose strength was equal or superior to his own. Although he hated Dick more than ever, because he thought our hero was putting on airs, he had too lively a remembrance of his strength and courage to venture upon another open attack. He contented himself, therefore, whenever he met Dick, with scowling at him. Dick took this very philosophically, remarking that, âif it was soothinâ to Mickyâs feelings, he might go ahead, as it didnât hurt him much.â
It will not be necessary to chronicle the events of the next few weeks. A new life had commenced for Dick. He no longer haunted the gallery of the Old Bowery; and even Tony Pastorâs hospitable doors had lost their old attractions. He spent two hours every evening in study. His progress was astonishingly rapid. He was gifted with a natural quickness; and he was stimulated by the desire to acquire a fair education as a means of âgrowinâ up âspectable,â as he termed it. Much was due also to the patience and perseverance of Henry Fosdick, who made a capital teacher.
âYouâre improving wonderfully, Dick,â said his friend, one evening, when Dick had read an entire paragraph without a mistake.
âAm I?â said Dick, with satisfaction.
âYes. If youâll buy a writing-book to-morrow, we can begin writing to-morrow evening.â
âWhat else do you know, Henry?â asked Dick.
âArithmetic, and geography, and grammar.â
âWhat a lot you know!â said Dick, admiringly.
âI donât know any of them,â said Fosdick. âIâve only studied them. I wish I knew a great deal more.â
âIâll be satisfied when I know as much as you,â said Dick.
âIt seems a great deal to you now, Dick, but in a few months youâll think differently. The more you know, the more youâll want to know.â
âThen there aint any end to learninâ?â said Dick.
âNo.â
âWell,â said Dick, âI guess Iâll be as much as sixty before I know everything.â
âYes; as old as that, probably,â said Fosdick, laughing.
âAnyway, you know too much to be blackinâ boots. Leave that to ignorant chaps like me.â
âYou wonât be ignorant long, Dick.â
âYouâd ought to get into some office or countinâ-room.â
âI wish I could,â said Fosdick, earnestly. âI donât succeed very well at blacking boots. You make a great deal more than I do.â
âThatâs cause I aint troubled with bashfulness,â said Dick. âBashfulness aint as natural to me as it is to you. Iâm always on hand, as the cat said to the milk. Youâd better give up shines, Fosdick, and give your âtention to mercantile pursuits.â
âIâve thought of trying to get a place,â said Fosdick; âbut no one would take me with these clothes;â and he directed his glance to his well-worn suit, which he kept as neat as he could, but which, in spite of all his care, began to show decided marks of use. There was also here and there a stain of blacking upon it, which, though an advertisement of his profession, scarcely added to its good appearance.
âI almost wanted to stay at home from Sunday school last Sunday,â he continued, âbecause I thought everybody would notice how dirty and worn my clothes had got to be.â
âIf my clothes wasnât two sizes too big for you,â said Dick, generously, âIâd change. Youâd look as if youâd got into your great-uncleâs suit by mistake.â
âYouâre very kind, Dick, to think of changing,â said Fosdick, âfor your suit is much better than mine; but I donât think that mine would suit you very well. The pants would show a little more of your ankles than is the fashion, and you couldnât eat a very hearty dinner without bursting the buttons off the vest.â
âThat wouldnât be very convenient,â said Dick. âI aint fond of lacinâ to show my elegant figger. But I say,â he added with a sudden thought, âhow much money have we got in the savingsâ bank?â
Fosdick took a key from his pocket, and went to the drawer in which the bank-books were kept, and, opening it, brought them out for inspection.
It was found that Dick had the sum of eighteen dollars and ninety cents placed to his credit, while Fosdick had six dollars and forty-five cents. To explain the large difference, it must be remembered that Dick had deposited five dollars before Henry deposited anything, being the amount he had received as a gift from Mr. Whitney.
âHow much does that make, the lot of it?â asked Dick. âI aint much on figgers yet, you know.â
âIt makes twenty-five dollars and thirty-five cents, Dick,â said his companion, who did not understand the thought which suggested the question.
âTake it, and buy some clothes, Henry,â said Dick, shortly.
âWhat, your money too?â
âIn course.â
âNo, Dick, you are too generous. I couldnât think of it. Almost three-quarters of the money is yours. You must spend it on yourself.â
âI donât need it,â said Dick.
âYou may not need it now, but you will some time.â
âI shall have some more then.â
âThat may be; but it wouldnât be fair for me to use your money, Dick. I thank you all the same for your kindness.â
âWell, Iâll lend it to you, then,â persisted Dick, âand you can pay me when you get to be a rich merchant.â
âBut it isnât likely I ever shall be one.â
âHow dâyou know? I went to a fortunâ teller once, and she told me I was born under a lucky star with a hard name, and I should have a rich man for my particular friend, who would make my fortunâ. I guess you are going to be the rich man.â
Fosdick laughed, and steadily refused for some time to avail himself of Dickâs generous proposal; but at length, perceiving that our hero seemed much disappointed, and would be really glad if his offer were accepted, he agreed to use as much as might be needful.
This at once brought back Dickâs good-humor, and he entered with great enthusiasm into his friendâs plans.
The next day they withdrew the money from the bank, and, when business got a little slack, in the afternoon set out in search of a clothing store. Dick knew enough of the city to be able to find a place where a good bargain could be obtained. He was determined that Fosdick should have a good serviceable suit, even if it took all the money they had. The result of their search was that for twenty-three dollars Fosdick obtained a very neat outfit, including a couple of shirts, a hat, and a pair of shoes, besides a dark mixed suit, which appeared stout and of good quality.
âShall I send the bundle home?â asked the salesman, impressed by the off-hand manner in which Dick drew out the money in payment for the clothes.
âThank you,â said Dick, âyouâre very kind, but Iâll take it home myself, and you can allow me something for my trouble.â
âAll right,â said the clerk, laughing; âIâll allow it on your next purchase.â
Proceeding to their apartment in Mott Street, Fosdick at once tried on his new suit, and it was found to be an excellent fit. Dick surveyed his new friend with much satisfaction.
âYou look like a young gentleman of fortunâ,â he said, âand do credit to your governor.â
âI suppose that means you, Dick,â said Fosdick, laughing.
âIn course it does.â
âYou should say of course,â said Fosdick, who, in virtue of his position as Dickâs tutor, ventured to correct his language from time to time.
âHow dare you correct your govânor?â said Dick, with comic indignation. ââIâll cut you off with a shillinâ, you young dog,â as the Markis says to his nephew in the play at the Old Bowery.â
FOSDICK CHANGES HIS BUSINESS
Fosdick did not venture to wear his new clothes while engaged in his business. This he felt would have been wasteful extravagance. About ten oâclock in the morning, when business slackened, he went home, and dressing himself went to a hotel where he could see copies of the âMorning Heraldâ and âSun,â and, noting down the places where a boy was wanted, went on a round of applications. But he found it no easy thing to obtain a place. Swarms of boys seemed to be out of employment, and it was not unusual to find from fifty to a hundred applicants for a single place.
There was another difficulty. It was generally desired that the boy wanted should reside with his parents. When Fosdick, on being questioned, revealed the fact of his having no parents, and being a boy of the street, this was generally sufficient of itself to insure a refusal. Merchants were afraid to trust one who had led such a vagabond life. Dick, who was always ready for an emergency, suggested borrowing a white wig, and passing himself off for Fosdickâs father or grandfather. But Henry thought this might be rather a difficult character for our hero to sustain. After fifty applications and as many failures, Fosdick began to get discouraged. There seemed to be no way out of his present business, for which he felt unfitted.
âI donât know but I shall have to black boots all my life,â he said, one day, despondently, to Dick.
âKeep a stiff upper lip,â said Dick. âBy the time you get to be a gray-headed veteran, you may get a chance to run errands for some big firm on the Bowery, which is a very cheerinâ reflection.â
So Dick by his drollery and perpetual good spirits kept up Fosdickâs courage.
âAs for me,â said Dick, âI expect by that time to lay up a colossal fortunâ out of shines, and live in princely style on the Avenoo.â
But one morning, Fosdick, straying into Frenchâs Hotel, discovered the following advertisement in the columns of âThe Herald,ââ
âWANTEDâA smart, capable boy to run errands, and make himself generally useful in a hat and cap store. Salary three dollars a week at first. Inquire at No. â Broadway, after ten oâclock, A.M.â
He determined to make application, and, as the City Hall clock just then struck the hour indicated, lost no time in proceeding to the store, which was only a few blocks distant from the Astor House. It was easy to find the store, as from a dozen to twenty boys were already assembled in front of it. They surveyed each other askance, feeling that they were rivals, and mentally calculating each otherâs chances.
âThere isnât much chance for me,â said Fosdick to Dick, who had accompanied him. âLook at all these boys. Most of
Comments (0)