CONCLUSION
When Dick was dressed in his new suit, he surveyed his figure with
pardonable complacency. It was the best he had ever worn, and fitted
him as well as if it had been made expressly for him.
“He’s done the handsome thing,” said Dick to himself; “but there wasn’t
no ’casion for his givin’ me these clothes. My lucky stars are shinin’
pretty bright now. Jumpin’ into the water pays better than shinin’
boots; but I don’t think I’d like to try it more’n once a week.”
About eleven o’clock the next morning Dick repaired to Mr. Rockwell’s
counting-room on Pearl Street. He found himself in front of a large and
handsome warehouse. The counting-room was on the lower floor. Our hero
entered, and found Mr. Rockwell sitting at a desk. No sooner did that
gentleman see him than he arose, and, advancing, shook Dick by the hand
in the most friendly manner.
“My young friend,” he said, “you have done me so great service that I
wish to be of some service to you in return. Tell me about yourself,
and what plans or wishes you have formed for the future.”
Dick frankly related his past history, and told Mr. Rockwell of his
desire to get into a store or counting-room, and of the failure of all
his applications thus far. The merchant listened attentively to Dick’s
statement, and, when he had finished, placed a sheet of paper before
him, and, handing him a pen, said, “Will you write your name on this
piece of paper?”
Dick wrote in a free, bold hand, the name Richard Hunter. He had very
much improved in his penmanship, as has already been mentioned, and now
had no cause to be ashamed of it.
Mr. Rockwell surveyed it approvingly.
“How would you like to enter my counting-room as clerk, Richard?” he
asked.
Dick was about to say “Bully,” when he recollected himself, and
answered, “Very much.”
“I suppose you know something of arithmetic, do you not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you may consider yourself engaged at a salary of ten dollars a
week. You may come next Monday morning.”
“Ten dollars!” repeated Dick, thinking he must have misunderstood.
“Yes; will that be sufficient?”
“It’s more than I can earn,” said Dick, honestly.
“Perhaps it is at first,” said Mr. Rockwell, smiling; “but I am willing
to pay you that. I will besides advance you as fast as your progress
will justify it.”
Dick was so elated that he hardly restrained himself from some
demonstration which would have astonished the merchant; but he
exercised self-control, and only said, “I’ll try to serve you so
faithfully, sir, that you won’t repent having taken me into your
service.”
“And I think you will succeed,” said Mr. Rockwell, encouragingly. “I
will not detain you any longer, for I have some important business to
attend to. I shall expect to see you on Monday morning.”
Dick left the counting-room, hardly knowing whether he stood on his
head or his heels, so overjoyed was he at the sudden change in his
fortunes. Ten dollars a week was to him a fortune, and three times as
much as he had expected to obtain at first. Indeed he would have been
glad, only the day before, to get a place at three dollars a week. He
reflected that with the stock of clothes which he had now on hand, he
could save up at least half of it, and even then live better than he
had been accustomed to do; so that his little fund in the savings bank,
instead of being diminished, would be steadily increasing. Then he was
to be advanced if he deserved it. It was indeed a bright prospect for a
boy who, only a year before, could neither read nor write, and depended
for a night’s lodging upon the chance hospitality of an alley-way or
old wagon. Dick’s great ambition to “grow up ’spectable” seemed likely
to be accomplished after all.
“I wish Fosdick was as well off as I am,” he thought generously. But he
determined to help his less fortunate friend, and assist him up the
ladder as he advanced himself.
When Dick entered his room on Mott Street, he discovered that some one
else had been there before him, and two articles of wearing apparel had
disappeared.
“By gracious!” he exclaimed; “somebody’s stole my Washington coat and
Napoleon pants. Maybe it’s an agent of Barnum’s, who expects to make a
fortun’ by exhibitin’ the valooable wardrobe of a gentleman of
fashion.”
Dick did not shed many tears over his loss, as, in his present
circumstances, he never expected to have any further use for the
well-worn garments. It may be stated that he afterwards saw them
adorning the figure of Micky Maguire; but whether that estimable young
man stole them himself, he never ascertained. As to the loss, Dick was
rather pleased that it had occurred. It seemed to cut him off from the
old vagabond life which he hoped never to resume. Henceforward he meant
to press onward, and rise as high as possible.
Although it was yet only noon, Dick did not go out again with his
brush. He felt that it was time to retire from business. He would leave
his share of the public patronage to other boys less fortunate than
himself. That evening Dick and Fosdick had a long conversation. Fosdick
rejoiced heartily in his friend’s success, and on his side had the
pleasant news to communicate that his pay had been advanced to six
dollars a week.
“I think we can afford to leave Mott Street now,” he continued. “This
house isn’t as neat as it might be, and I shall like to live in a nicer
quarter of the city.”
“All right,” said Dick. “We’ll hunt up a new room to-morrow. I shall
have plenty of time, having retired from business. I’ll try to get my
reg’lar customers to take Johnny Nolan in my place. That boy hasn’t any
enterprise. He needs some body to look out for him.”
“You might give him your box and brush, too, Dick.”
“No,” said Dick; “I’ll give him some new ones, but mine I want to keep,
to remind me of the hard times I’ve had, when I was an ignorant
boot-black, and never expected to be anything better.”
“When, in short, you were ‘Ragged Dick.’ You must drop that name, and
think of yourself now as”—
“Richard Hunter, Esq.,” said our hero, smiling.
“A young gentleman on the way to fame and fortune,” added Fosdick.
Here ends the story of Ragged Dick. As Fosdick said, he is Ragged Dick
no longer. He has taken a step upward, and is determined to mount still
higher. There are fresh adventures in store for him, and for others who
have been introduced in these pages. Those who have felt interested in
his early life will find his history continued in a new volume, forming
the second of the series, to be called,—
FAME AND FORTUNE;
OR,
THE PROGRESS OF RICHARD HUNTER.