Julius, The Street Boy

“Mr. O’Connor—he’s the superintendent of the Newsboys’ Lodging House—was goin’ to take some boys out, and get ’em places; and he offered to take me.”

“Are all these boys I see in the car going out too?”

“Yes, sir, all of ’em, and there’s some more in the car behind.”

“Where in the West do you expect to go?”

“I don’t know,” said Julius. “Is the West a big place?”

“I should say it was,” said the other, with a laugh. “It’s a very large place.”

“Were you ever there?” asked Julius, desiring to hear something about his place of destination.

“I live there—in Wisconsin. Did you ever hear of Wisconsin?”

Julius shook his head.

“I don’t know much about any places, except New York and Jersey,” he added.

“I live in the city of Milwaukee, in Wisconsin. It is quite a flourishing city.”

“Is it as big as New York?”

“Oh, no; we can’t show any cities in the West as big as New York. I doubt if we ever shall, though we’ve some large cities, that are growing fast. Do you think you are likely to come to Milwaukee?”

“I don’t know,” said Julius. “Mr. O’Connor could tell you.”

“Where is he?”

“In the other car. Will I speak to him?”

“Not yet. I’ve got something more to say to you. I am under an obligation to you.”

“What’s that?” asked Julius, puzzled.

“I mean that you have done me a favor.”

“That’s all right,” said Julius. “I’m glad of it.”

“And in doing so, you have probably made an enemy,” added the other.

“You mean Ned Sanders?”

“Yes; I am afraid, if he gets a chance, he will do you an injury.”

“I’ll be out of his way.”

“He might some time see you.”

“If he does, and I’m grown up, I won’t be afraid of him.”

“You seem to be a brave young man.”

“I ain’t a coward,” said Julius, proudly.

“And yet there are some things I hope you will be afraid of.”

“What are them?” asked Julius, somewhat puzzled.

“I hope you will be afraid to lie and steal, and do wrong generally.”

“I shan’t steal,” said Julius; “I don’t know about lyin’, most boys lie sometimes.”

“I hope you will be one of the boys that do not lie at all.”

“Maybe so,” said Julius, dubiously. “A feller can’t always be good.”

“No, I suppose not. But there is no occasion for lying.”

“I’ll try not to, but I ain’t an angel.”

“Angels are scare, as far as my observation goes,” said his companion, smiling, “and you appear to have too much human nature about you to be altogether angelic. But there’s one thing you can do. You can try to do right.”

“I mean to,” said Julius, promptly. “I want to grow up respectable.”

“If you want to, you probably will. You’ll have a better chance at the West than you would in New York.”

“If I stayed there, I’d be a bootblack all my life,” said Julius. “There ain’t no chance for a boy like me to rise. I wouldn’t want to be a bootblack,” he added reflectively, “when I got to be old and gray-headed.”

“No, it wouldn’t be an agreeable business for an old man to follow. But I’ve got off the track.”

“Off the track!” repeated Julius, looking out of the window.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that. The cars are all right. But I meant to say, that I had got away from what I meant to say. I think I owe you something for your saving me from losing my watch.”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” said Julius.

“To me it is a great deal, and I want to show my sense of the favor. Is there anything in particular you would like?”

“I don’t know,” said Julius, thoughtfully. “I might like a jack-knife.”

“That isn’t enough. As I said, I have particular reason to value my watch and chain. Did you ever have a watch yourself?”

“I never got so far along. I couldn’t save enough on shines for that.”

“Well, it so happens that, in New York, I took a small silver watch and chain in the way of business from a traveler who owed me money. Here it is.”

He drew from his pocket a neat, but inexpensive silver watch, with a chain of the same metal.