Fame and Fortune; or, The Progress of Richard Hunter

"It's more modest, and that is all the better."

"All right. I suppose you know best. Before I get ready I must give a new shine to my boots. I'm going to make them shine so you can see your face in them."

"Better let me do that for you, Dick. I can do it while you're dressing, and that will save time."

"No, Fosdick, I was longer in the business than you, and none of the boys could beat me on shines."

"I don't know but you're right, Dick. I freely yield the palm to you in that."

Dick stripped off his coat and vest and went to work with a will. He had never worked so hard for one of his old customers.

"I'm goin' to give it a twenty-five cent shine," he said.

Just then a knock was heard at the chamber-door.

"Come in!" said Dick, pausing a moment in his labors.

Mr. Clifton, a fellow-boarder, entered with a cigar in his mouth.

"Holloa," said he, "what's up? Going to the theatre, Hunter?"

"No," said Dick. "I'm goin' out to spend the evening with some friends up in Madison Avenue."

"So I heard you say at the table, but I thought you were joking."

"No," said Dick; "it's a fact."

"Seems to me you handle the brush pretty skilfully," remarked Mr. Clifton. "I should almost think you had served a regular apprenticeship at it."

"So I have," answered Dick. "Didn't you ever see me when I blacked boots on Chatham Square?"

"Good joke!" said the young man, who was far from supposing that Dick was in earnest. "Oh, yes, of course I've seen you often! Did you make money at it?"

"I retired on a fortun'," said Dick, "and now I've invested my capital in mercantile pursuits. There," and he took up one boot, and showed it to his visitor, "did you ever see a better shine than that?"

"No, I didn't, that's a fact," said Clifton, admiringly. "You beat the young rascal I employ all hollow. I say, Hunter, if you ever go into the 'shine' business again, I'll be a regular customer of yours."

"He little thinks I've blacked his boots before now," thought Dick.

"All right," said he, aloud. "When a commercial crisis comes, and I fail in business, I think I'll remember your encouragin' offer, and remind you of it."

"Have a cigar either of you?" asked Clifton, drawing out a case. "Excuse my not offering it before."

"No, thank you," said Fosdick.

"Don't smoke, eh? Won't you have one, Hunter?"

"No, thank you. Fosdick is my guardian, and he don't allow it."

"So you're a good boy. Well, I wish you a pleasant evening," and Clifton sauntered out to find some other companion.

"He wouldn't believe I'd been a boot-black," said Dick, "even after I told him. I knew he wouldn't, or I wouldn't have said so. Is my hair parted straight?"

"Yes, it's all right."

"How's my cravat?"

"It'll do. You're getting to be quite a dandy, Dick."

"I want to look respectable; got it right that time. When I visit Turkey I want to look as the turkeys do. Won't you go with me,—as far as the door, I mean?"

"Yes, if you're going to walk."

"I'd rather. I feel kind of nervous, and perhaps I'll walk it off."

The two boys got their caps, and walked up Broadway on the west side. The lights were already lit, and the shop windows made a brilliant display. At intervals places of amusement opened wide their hospitable portals, and large placards presented tempting invitations to enter.

They reached Union Square, and, traversing it, again walked up Broadway to Madison Park. At the upper end of this park commences the beautiful avenue which bears the same name. Only about half a dozen blocks now required to be passed, when the boys found themselves opposite a residence with a very imposing front.

"This is the place," said Dick. "I wish you were going in with me."

"I hope you will have a pleasant time, Dick. Good-by till I see you again."

Dick felt a little nervous, but he summoned up all his courage, and, ascending the broad marble steps, rang the bell.

CHAPTER V.

DICK RECEIVES TWO VALUABLE PRESENTS

At the end of the last chapter we left Dick standing on the steps of Mr. Rockwell's residence in Madison Avenue. He had rung the bell and was waiting to have his summons answered. To say that Dick expected to enjoy his visit would not be strictly true. He knew very well that his street education had not qualified him to appear to advantage in fashionable society, and he wished that Fosdick were with him to lend him countenance.

While under the influence of these feelings the door was thrown open, and a servant looked at him inquiringly.

"Is Mr. Rockwell at home?" asked Dick.

"Yes. Would you like to see him?"

"He asked me to call this evening."

"What! Are you the boy that saved Master Johnny from drowning?" asked the servant, her face brightening up, for Johnny was a great favorite in the house.

"I jumped into the water after him," said Dick, modestly.

"I heard Mr. Rockwell say he was expecting you to-night. Come right in. Mistress is very anxious to see you."

Placed a little at his ease by this cordial reception, Dick followed the servant upstairs to a pleasant sitting-room on the second floor. Mr. and Mrs. Rockwell were seated at a centre-table reading the evening papers, while Johnny and his sister Grace were constructing a Tower of Babel with some blocks upon the carpet before the fire.

Dick entered, and stood just within the door, with his cap in his hand, feeling a little embarrassed.