MAKING ACQUAINTANCES.
The first day's work at selling newspapers was particularly hard for
Paul Weston, and more than once was it necessary for both Ben and
Johnny to interfere, to save him from what might have been serious
trouble with that class of newsboys who made it their especial
business to drive any new-comer away.
And it would not have been a very long or difficult task to have made
Paul retire from the business if he had not had these two friends, so
experienced in the ways and hard corners of street life.
According to the best judgment of both Ben and Johnny, the only course
which Paul could pursue, with any hope of ever reaching his friends in
Chicago, was to earn sufficient money by the sale of papers to pay his
fare on there. It is true that while Paul had given himself up to
grief on the previous evening, and they had left their hogshead home
in order that he might be alone, a wild idea of writing to some of his
relatives had crossed their minds; but it had not assumed such shape
that they felt warranted in speaking of it to him.
The surest way, they reasoned, to restore him to his home was for him
to earn sufficient money to take him there properly, and to that end
they labored during the first day of his apprenticeship.
They neglected their own work to make it known among their
acquaintances that he was under their immediate care, and that they
should resent to the utmost of their power any effort to drive him
from his task. They also kept a strict watch over him, and whenever
they saw signs of discouragement upon his face, which they did many
times, they encouraged him by kind words and advice to continue in his
labors, holding before him the hope of meeting his parents once more
as the reward of his exertions.
Never once did the thought come to them that by keeping him within
their world they were most effectually hiding him from his parents;
and since they were doing their best to aid him, even if it was the
worst thing they could do, they were none the less friends to him in
the truest sense of the word.
That noon, in order to cheer the sorrowful boy as much as possible,
they resolved on having such a feast as they allowed themselves only
on extra occasions, and that was to go to a cheap restaurant, where a
whole dinner (such as it was) could be bought for fifteen cents. To
them it was a rare treat; but, greatly to their disappointment, Paul
did not enjoy it as they had expected he would.
The afternoon papers were purchased, and even though their new friend
was so wholly unacquainted with the business, and they were obliged to
spend so much of their time in defending him from the assaults of the
more evil disposed of their calling, trade was more than ordinarily
good.
The reckless expenditure of forty-five cents for dinner was made up,
and when the day's work was over they had a clear profit of
forty-three cents; which, to say the least, encouraged them in their
good work.
Instead of going directly to the home that Dickey Spry had founded,
after their day's work was over, Ben proposed that Paul be introduced
to some of their mutual friends, in order that his change in life
might be made as agreeable as possible, and then came the question as
to who should be honored by the first call.
Ben was in favor of visiting Nelly Green, whose mother kept a
fruit-stand on Chatham Square, and who was always to be found acting
as clerk, while Johnny was anxious to visit a mutual friend by the
name of Mopsey Dowd, who had risen from boot-black to the proud
eminence of owning a pea-nut stand near Fulton Market.
There was quite an argument as to which one of their friends Paul
would be most pleased to meet, and each one held so strongly to his
own views on the matter that the question was only settled by the
agreement to call on both.
Mopsey Dowd's place of business being near the corner where they held
their consultation, the three concluded to visit there first, and Paul
was considerably interested in this work of making acquaintances.
The traffic at the ferry was still quite brisk, and Mopsey was in the
full tide of prosperity, selling his goods as rapidly as though he had
extensively advertised to close out his entire stock a little below
cost.
Between the intervals of waiting upon customers and turning the
roaster to keep the nuts from burning, Ben related Paul's story to the
pea-nut merchant, and Mopsey was so much interested that he not only
favored Paul with a great deal of his attention, but insisted on
presenting him with a large handful of the very best and warmest nuts.
Mopsey even went so far as to enter into negotiation with Paul for the
purchase of the two tops that had caused him so much trouble in the
getting. But owing to a sudden rush of customers the proposed trade
was broken off, and the visitors took their leave, promising to call
again at some time when they would be less liable to interruption from
a pea-nut-hungry public.
Then the three started for Nelly Green's place of business, taking a
roundabout course to get there, for the purpose of avoiding the crowd;
and by doing this they met another of their acquaintances whom they
were rejoiced to see, even though he was a creditor.
This individual was none other than Master Dickey Spry, who had earned
his last name because of the quickness of his movements, and who had
borne it so long that there was considerable doubt as to whether he
remembered his parents' name or not.
Master Spry was leaning against a lamp-post in an attitude of deepest
dejection, looking down into the gutter as if he expected to see there
some help arise to aid him in his evident trouble.
Now Dickey Spry was the founder of the house in which Ben and Johnny
took so much pride. He it was who had discovered that snug place,
replete with all needful modern conveniences, and Ben and Johnny had
purchased it of him for fifty cents, paying ten cents per week on the
instalment plan, and having already made three payments according to
agreement.
Dickey had not noticed them when they first came up, and it was not
until Ben touched him on the shoulder that he appeared to hear what
they said.
"What's the matter with yer?" asked Ben, anxiously. "You look as if
somebody'd stole yer an' carried yer off. What's up now?"
"Busted," replied Dickey, mournfully, and then he began surveying the
gutter again.
"Busted!" echoed the two boys in the same breath; and Ben asked,
eagerly,
"You don't mean to say that you've gone up--failed?"
"That's jest it. I trusted out as much as thirty cents, an' then I got
Tim Dooley to 'tend the stand for me this forenoon, an' when I come
back I couldn't find anything but the stand, an' that, you know, I
hired. All ther nuts an' Tim had gone off."
The boys were so thoroughly overwhelmed by the news of this misfortune
that it was some time before Ben could ask,
"But can't you find out where Tim is?"
Dickey shook his head.
"I've been lookin' everywhere, an' I can't hear nothin' 'bout him, an'
I can't make any of ther fellers pay me what they owe me, so I'm all
cleaned out."
Ben looked at Johnny inquiringly for an instant, and when that young
gentleman nodded his head, he said,
"Well, we owe yer twenty cents that ain't due yet, Dickey, but we've
got ther money, an' we'll pay it to yer now."
"I don't want it," replied the unfortunate tradesman, "an' I didn't
say what I did to make you pay me. If you fellers will let me own
twenty cents' worth of ther house I'll be all right, for then I'll
have a place to live, an' I kin get back in ther boot-blackin' bizness
agin."
It would be crowding rather close to put four into the hogshead; but
matters could be arranged by turning their store-room into a
bedchamber, and Dickey's request was granted without the slightest
show of hesitation.
"We're goin' round town awhile," said Johnny to the bankrupt merchant,
"an' you'd better come along with us."
Dickey shook his head very decidedly. He had no desire to mingle with
the world while his loss bore so heavily upon him, and he was so
emphatic in his determination to go directly to the home he had once
sold, that no amount of persuasion could induce him to change his
mind.
After promising to return early, in order to cheer him in his
troubles, the boys continued their interrupted way to Chatham Square,
where, by the greatest good-luck, both Nelly and her mother were found
seated behind a huge basket piled high with peaches and pears. They
were sure of having a pleasant call at this establishment, for Mrs.
Green could attend to the customers while the daughter entertained
them.
Nelly was rather diffident before this strange boy, who was dressed so
well, and apparently had very little in common with the society in
which she moved; but after Ben had given her a detailed account of
Paul's circumstances, as he had to Mopsey, the case seemed entirely
changed, and she was even more sociable with Paul than with her
friends. Johnny and Ben related everything of interest that they had
learned since they had seen Nelly last, and concluded the recital by
an account of Dickey Spry's misfortunes.
Nelly seemed unusually anxious to know how they could all live in the
rather narrow quarters, and after some conversation regarding it,
disclosed the reason of her sudden interest by informing the boys that
since they had called last her mother had moved, and that their home
was larger than formerly.
"We've got two rooms that we sha'n't use," continued Nelly, speaking
quickly in her excitement, "an' mother thought perhaps you or some of
the boys would come up an' board with us. We'll make it just as
pleasant for you as we can, an' it won't cost you much more than it
does the way you live now--an' you don't eat more than half as often
as you ought to."
Paul looked up with an expression of pleasure in his face, for the
nearer the hour of retiring approached, the more distasteful and
lonely did the hogshead home seem, he could say nothing against it,
for it had served him as shelter when he was utterly alone; but this
idea of living in a house, where some of the womankind would care for
him, was very agreeable to him.
"Mother says that she'll board you, an' see to your clothes, an' do
your washin', for two dollars'n a half a week, an' I think it would be
awful nice for us all to live together."
The boys thought so too; but they also thought of their hogshead,
which seemed so cheerful to them, if Paul did have a disdain for it,
and there was a momentary feeling that they would not like to leave
it, no matter what inducement might be offered. Then there arose
before them the vision of a "regular home," wherein some one would
care for and minister to their comfort, and the advantages of living
in a hogshead grew very few indeed.
"Come up to the house in about an hour, an' see how you like it,"
suggested Nelly, thinking they were hesitating about accepting the
offer. Then, after she had told them the street and number at which
she lived, she added, "We'll be home in a little while now, an' then
if you should think that your house is the nicest, you can still live
where you are."
"We'll come," said Ben, decidedly, for he had already made up his mind
that he should accept the proposition. Then he led the others away
very quickly, as if he had some plan in his mind, as, indeed, he
really had.
"We'll go home an' fix up, an' then we'll take the eye right outer
them, for they think these are the only clothes we've got."
Johnny was delighted with the proposition of "taking the eye out" of
Mrs. Green and her daughter by the splendor of their raiment, and the
two walked so fast, in their eagerness to begin the serious operation
of dressing, that Paul could hardly keep pace with them.
After they had taken the usual precautions to prevent any one from
seeing them when they readied the vicinity of their home, and had
succeeded in getting safely into the hogshead unobserved, they found
the ruined merchant laying plans for the rebuilding of his shattered
fortunes. It was in vain that they urged him to accompany them on
their call. To all their arguments he had but one reply, and that was
to the effect that he did not believe in their scheme of boarding.
"It's jest nothin' more nor less'n tryin' to put on airs," he said,
impatiently. "Anybody'd think you 'xpected to be 'lected aldermen by
ther way you're swellin' round; an' old Mother Green'll be tickled
most to death when she sees what fools you're makin' of yourselves."
In fact it did look just a little as if they were "swelling"
considerably. Ben blackened Paul's, Johnny's, and his own boots until
they would have answered for mirrors, and then he attended to his own
toilet.
Johnny had red hair, which was quite coarse, and persisted in growing
in all directions at the same time; but on this occasion he had
reduced it to something like subjection by a vigorous application of
the unburned end of the candle, and it clung to his head as if it had
been stuck there by glue. His freckled face had been scrubbed until it
looked as if it had been polished, and his hands were almost clean.
But it was upon his costume that he depended for the greatest effect.
That he did have another coat was shown when he put on one that had
evidently been rescued from the oblivion of an ash-barrel. It was very
short-waisted and very long tailed; but this last defect, if indeed
such a term could be applied, was remedied by one of the skirts having
been cut off at least six inches shorter than the other, which gave a
jaunty, careless appearance to the entire garment. His vest was the
same he wore when at work; but by pinning the collar over so as to
make it present more of the passably clean shirt, he changed its
entire appearance. The trousers were unaltered, save that where the
lower portions had been fringed by long usage, he had cut them off as
well as he could with his knife. He deeply mourned the utter absence
of a necktie, but consoled himself with the thought that the
invitation had come at such a late hour in the day, and at a time when
his funds were so low, that Mrs. Green and Nelly would probably
understand the fact and overlook the omission.
[Illustration: PAUL LOOKED ON AT THESE PREPARATIONS WITH THE MOST
PROFOUND SURPRISE.]
Ben was clad in quite as startling a fashion, but in exactly the
opposite way. Johnny's coat was long, very long, while his was
short--so short as to make it look as if it had originally belonged to
a boy about half his size. His vest was buttoned snug to the chin, to
conceal the ravages made by dirt on his shirt-front, while his necktie
was made of the very narrowest and most brilliant red ribbon that
could be found.
It would have been impossible to cut anything from the bottom of his
trousers, for the very good reason that they were already so short as
to give them the appearance of trying to crawl up his legs to get out
of sight; but in his eyes the high polish of his shoes had a better
chance of being seen. Ben's face and hands were as clean as Johnny's,
but he had put none of the candle-grease on his hair, although he had
smoothed it with water until two small streams were trickling down
either side of his face, giving plenty of employment to his hands, as
he tried to prevent it from running down his neck.
Paul looked on at these preparations with the greatest surprise; and
when his friends announced that they were ready, and that he was to
accompany them, he followed without a word, awed by the general
magnificence.