Paul the Peddler; Or, The Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant

“We must look for the prize by all means,” said the gentleman. “What is this? One cent?”

“Yes sir”; and Paul held out a cent to his customer.

“Never mind about that! You may keep the prize.”

“I want it, pa,” interposed Alfred, with his mouth full of candy.

“I’ll give you another,” said his father, still declining to accept the proffered prize.

Paul now found himself in the enviable position of one who, at eleven o’clock, had succeeded in disposing of his entire stock in trade, and that at an excellent profit, as we soon shall see. Business had been more brisk with him than with many merchants on a larger scale, who sometimes keep open their shops all day without taking in enough to pay expenses. But, then, it is to be considered that in Paul’s case expenses were not a formidable item. He had no rent to pay, for one thing, nor clerk hire, being competent to attend to his entire business single-handed. All his expense, in fact, was the first cost of his stock in trade, and he had so fixed his prices as to insure a good profit on that. So, on the whole, Paul felt very well satisfied at the result of his experiment, for this was his first day in the prize-package business.

“I guess I’ll go home,” he said to himself. “Mother’ll want to know how I made out.” He turned up Nassau street, and had reached the corner of Maiden lane, when Teddy O’Brien met him.

“Did you sell out, Johnny?” he asked.

“Yes,” answered Paul.

“How many packages did you have?”

“Fifty.”

“That’s bully. How much you made?”

“I can’t tell yet. I haven’t counted up,” said Paul.

“It’s better’n sellin’ papers, I’ll bet. I’ve only made thirty cents the day. Don’t you want to take a partner, Johnny?”

“No, I don’t think I do,” said Paul, who had good reason to doubt whether such a step would be to his advantage.

“Then I’ll go in for myself,” said Teddy, somewhat displeased at the refusal.

“Go ahead! There’s nobody to stop you,” said Paul.

“I’d rather go in with you,” said Teddy, feeling that there would be some trouble in making the prize packages, but influenced still more by the knowledge that he had not capital enough to start in the business alone.

“No,” said Paul, positively; “I don’t want any partner. I can do well enough alone.”

He was not surprised at Teddy’s application. Street boys are as enterprising, and have as sharp eyes for business as their elders, and no one among them can monopolize a profitable business long. This is especially the case with the young street merchant. When one has had the good luck to find some attractive article which promises to sell briskly, he takes every care to hide the source of his supply from his rivals in trade. But this is almost impossible. Cases are frequent where such boys are subjected to the closest espionage, their steps being dogged for hours by boys who think they have found a good thing and are determined to share it. In the present case Paul had hit upon an idea which seemed to promise well, and he was determined to keep it to himself as long as possible. As soon as he was subjected to competition and rivalry his gains would probably diminish.

CHAPTER II

PAUL AT HOME

Paul went up Centre street and turned into Pearl. Stopping before a tenement-house, he entered, and, going up two flights of stairs, opened a door and entered.

“You are home early, Paul,” said a woman of middle age, looking up at his entrance.

“Yes, mother; I’ve sold out.”

“You’ve not sold out the whole fifty packages?” she asked, in surprise.

“Yes, I have. I had capital luck.”

“Why, you must have made as much as a dollar, and it’s not twelve yet.”

“I’ve made more than that, mother. Just wait a minute, till I’ve reckoned up a little. Where’s Jimmy?”

“Miss Beckwith offered to take him out to walk with her, so I let him go. He’ll be back at twelve.”

While Paul is making a calculation, a few words of explanation and description may be given, so that the reader may understand better how he is situated.

The rooms occupied by Paul and his mother were three in number. The largest one was about fourteen feet square, and was lighted by two windows. It was covered with a neat, though well-worn, carpet; a few cane-bottomed chairs were ranged at the windows, and on each side of the table. There was a French clock on the mantel, a rocking chair for his mother, and a few inexpensive engravings hung upon the walls. There was a hanging bookcase containing two shelves, filled with books, partly school books, supplemented by a few miscellaneous books, such as “Robinson Crusoe,” “Pilgrim’s Progress,” a volume of “Poetical Selections,” an odd volume of Scott, and several others. Out of the main room opened two narrow chambers, both together of about the same area as the main room. One of these was occupied by Paul and Jimmy, the other by his mother.

Those who are familiar with the construction of a New York tenement-house will readily understand the appearance of the rooms into which we have introduced them. It must, however, be explained that few similar apartments are found so well furnished. Carpets are not very common in tenement-houses, and if there are any pictures, they are usually the cheapest prints. Wooden chairs, and generally every object of the cheapest, are to be met with in the dwellings of the New York poor. If we find something better in the present instance, it is not because Paul and his mother are any better off than their neighbors. On the contrary, there are few whose income is so small. But they have seen better days, and the furniture we see has been saved from the time of their comparative prosperity.

As Paul is still at his estimate, let us improve the opportunity by giving a little of their early history.

Mr. Hoffman, the father of Paul, was born in Germany, but came to New York when a boy of twelve, and there he grew up and married, his wife being an American. He was a cabinetmaker, and, being a skillful workman, earned very good wages, so that he was able to maintain his family in comfort. They occupied a neat little cottage in Harlem, and lived very happily, for Mr. Hoffman was temperate and kind, when an unfortunate accident clouded their happiness, and brought an end to their prosperity. In crossing Broadway at its most crowded part, the husband and father was run over by a loaded dray, and so seriously injured that he lived but a few hours. Then the precarious nature of their prosperity was found out. Mr. Hoffman had not saved anything, having always lived up to the extent of his income. It was obviously impossible for them to continue to live in their old home, paying a rent of twenty dollars per month. Besides, Paul did not see any good opportunity to earn his living in Harlem. So, at his instigation, his mother moved downtown, and took rooms in a tenement-house in Pearl street, agreeing to pay six dollars a month for apartments which would now command double the price. They brought with them furniture enough to furnish the three rooms, selling the rest for what it would bring, and thus obtaining a small reserve fund, which by this time was nearly exhausted.

Once fairly established in their new home, Paul went out into the streets to earn his living. The two most obvious, and, on the whole, most profitable trades, were blacking boots and selling newspapers. To the first Paul, who was a neat boy, objected on the score that it would keep his hands and clothing dirty, and, street boy though he had become, he had a pride in his personal appearance. To selling papers he had not the same objection, but he had a natural taste for trade, and this led him to join the ranks of the street peddlers. He began with vending matches, but found so much competition in the business, and received so rough a reception oftentimes from those who had repeated calls from others in the same business, that he gave it up, and tried something else. But the same competition which crowds the professions and the higher employments followed by men, prevails among the street trades which are pursued by boys. If Paul had only had himself to support, he could have made a fair living at match selling, or any other of the employments he took up; but his mother could not earn much at making vests, and Jimmy was lame, and could do nothing to fill the common purse, so that Paul felt that his earnings must be the main support of the family, and naturally sought out what would bring him in most money.

At length he had hit upon selling prize packages, and his first experience in that line are recorded in the previous chapter. Adding only that it was now a year since his father’s death, we resume our narrative.

“Do you want to know how much I’ve made, mother?” asked Paul, looking up at length from his calculation.

“Yes, Paul.”

“A dollar and thirty cents.”

“I did not think it would amount to so much. The prizes came to considerable, didn’t they?”

“Listen, and I will tell you how I stand:

One pound of candy  . . . . . . . .   .20

Two packs of envelopes . . . . . . .  .10

Prize. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  .90

–—

That makes . . . . . . . . . . . .  $1.20

I sold the fifty packages at five cents each, and that brought me in two dollars and a half. Taking out the expenses, it leaves me a dollar and thirty cents. Isn’t that doing well for one morning’s work?”

“It’s excellent; but I thought your prizes amounted to more than ninety cents.”

“So they did, but several persons who bought wouldn’t take their prizes, and that was so much gain.”