Fame and Fortune; or, The Progress of Richard Hunter

That was what Dick liked. His heart always opened to kindness, but harshness always made him defiant.

"I'll try to make you as little trouble as possible, sir," he said. "I may make mistakes at first, but I'm willin' to work, and I want to work my way up."

"That's right, my boy," said Mr. Murdock. "Let that be your determination, and I am sure you will succeed."

"Before Mr. Murdock begins to instruct you in your duties," said Mr. Rockwell, "you may go to the post-office, and see if there are any letters for us. Our box is No. 5,670."

"All right, sir," said Dick; and he took his hat at once and started.

He reached Chatham Square, turned into Printing House Square, and just at the corner of Spruce and Nassau Streets, close by the Tribune Office, he saw the familiar face and figure of Johnny Nolan, one of his old associates when he was a boot-black.

"How are you, Johnny?" he said.

"Is that you, Dick?" asked Johnny, turning round. "Where's your box and brush?"

"At home."

"You haven't give up business,—have you?"

"I've just gone into business, Johnny."

"I mean you aint give up blackin' boots,—have you?"

"All except my own, Johnny. Aint that a good shine?" and Dick displayed his boot with something of his old professional pride.

"What you up to now, Dick? You're dressed like a swell."

"Oh," said Dick, "I've retired from shines on a fortun', and embarked my capital in mercantile pursuits. I'm in a store on Pearl Street."

"What store?"

"Rockwell & Cooper's."

"How'd you get there?"

"They wanted a partner with a large capital, and so they took me," said Dick. "We're goin' to do a smashin' business. We mean to send off a ship to Europe every day, besides what we send to other places, and expect to make no end of stamps."

"What's the use of gassin', Dick? Tell a feller now."

"Honor bright, then, Johnny, I've got a place at ten dollars a week, and I'm goin' to be 'spectable. Why don't you turn over a new leaf, and try to get up in the world?"

"I aint lucky, Dick. I don't half the time make enough to live on. If it wasn't for the Newsboys' Lodgin' House, I don't know what I'd do. I need a new brush and box of blacking, but I aint got money enough to buy one."

"Then, Johnny, I'll help you this once. Here's fifty cents; I'll give it to you. Now, if you're smart you can make a dollar a day easy, and save up part of it. You ought to be more enterprisin', Johnny. There's a gentleman wants a shine now."

Johnny hitched up his trousers, put the fifty cents in his mouth, having no pocket unprovided with holes, and proffered his services to the gentleman indicated, with success. Dick left him at work, and kept on his way down Nassau Street.

"A year ago," he thought, "I was just like Johnny, dressed in rags, and livin' as I could. If it hadn't been for my meetin' with Frank, I'd been just the same to day, most likely. Now I've got a good place, and some money in the bank, besides 'ristocratic friends who invite me to come and see them. Blessed if I aint afraid I'm dreamin' it all, like the man that dreamed he was in a palace, and woke up to find himself in a pigpen."

CHAPTER III.

AT THE POST-OFFICE

The New York Post-Office is built of brick, and was formerly a church. It is a shabby building, and quite unworthy of so large and important a city. Of course Dick was quite familiar with its general appearance; but as his correspondence had been very limited, he had never had occasion to ask for letters.

There were several letters in Box 5,670. Dick secured these, and, turning round to go out, his attention was drawn to a young gentleman of about his own age, who, from his consequential air, appeared to feel his own importance in no slight degree. He recognized him at once as Roswell Crawford, a boy who had applied unsuccessfully for the place which Fosdick obtained in Henderson's hat and cap store.

Roswell recognized Dick at the same time, and perceiving that our hero was well-dressed, concluded to speak to him, though he regarded Dick as infinitely beneath himself in the social scale, on account of his former employment. He might not have been so condescending, but he was curious to learn what Dick was about.

"I haven't seen you for some time," he said, in a patronizing tone.

"No," said Dick, "and I haven't seen you for some time either, which is a very curious coincidence."

"How's boot-blacking, now?" inquired Roswell, with something of a sneer.

"Tip-top," said Dick, not at all disturbed by Roswell's manner. "I do it wholesale now, and have been obliged to hire a large building on Pearl Street to transact my business in. You see them letters? They're all from wholesale customers."

"I congratulate you on your success," said Roswell, in the same disagreeable manner. "Of course that's all humbug. I suppose you've got a place."

"Yes," said Dick.

"Who are you with?"

"Rockwell & Cooper, on Pearl Street."

"How did you get it?" asked Roswell, appearing surprised. "Did they know you had been a boot-black?"

"Of course they did."

"I shouldn't think that they would have taken you."

"Why not?"

"There are not many firms that would hire a boot-black, when they could get plenty of boys from nice families."

"Perhaps they might have secured your services if they had applied," said Dick, good-humoredly.

"I've got a place," said Roswell, in rather an important manner. "I'm very glad I didn't go into Henderson's hat and cap store. I've got a better situation."

"Have you?" said Dick. "I'm glad to hear it. I'm always happy to hear that my friends are risin' in the world."

"You needn't class me among your friends," said Roswell, superciliously.

"No, I won't," said Dick. "I'm goin' to be particular about my associates, now that I'm gettin' up in the world."

"Do you mean to insult me?" demanded Roswell, haughtily.

"No," said Dick. "I wouldn't on any account. I should be afraid you'd want me to fight a duel, and that wouldn't be convenient, for I haven't made my will, and I'm afraid my heirs would quarrel over my extensive property."