“You’ll be a rich man some time, Dick,” said Henry Fosdick, one evening.
“And live on Fifth Avenoo,” said Dick.
“Perhaps so. Stranger things have happened.”
“Well,” said Dick, “if such a misfortin’ should come upon me I should bear it like a man. When you see a Fifth Avenoo manshun for sale for a hundred and seventeen dollars, just let me know and I’ll buy it as an investment.”
“Two hundred and fifty years ago you might have bought one for that price, probably. Real estate wasn’t very high among the Indians.”
“Just my luck,” said Dick; “I was born too late. I’d orter have been an Indian, and lived in splendor on my present capital.”
“I’m afraid you’d have found your present business rather unprofitable at that time.”
But Dick had gained something more valuable than money. He had studied regularly every evening, and his improvement had been marvellous. He could now read well, write a fair hand, and had studied arithmetic as far as Interest. Besides this he had obtained some knowledge of grammar and geography. If some of my boy readers, who have been studying for years, and got no farther than this, should think it incredible that Dick, in less than a year, and studying evenings only, should have accomplished it, they must remember that our hero was very much in earnest in his desire to improve. He knew that, in order to grow up respectable, he must be well advanced, and he was willing to work. But then the reader must not forget that Dick was naturally a smart boy. His street education had sharpened his faculties, and taught him to rely upon himself. He knew that it would take him a long time to reach the goal which he had set before him, and he had patience to keep on trying. He knew that he had only himself to depend upon, and he determined to make the most of himself—a resolution which is the secret of success in nine cases out of ten.
“Dick,” said Fosdick, one evening, after they had completed their studies, “I think you’ll have to get another teacher soon.”
“Why?” asked Dick, in some surprise. “Have you been offered a more loocrative position?”
“No,” said Fosdick, “but I find I have taught you all I know myself. You are now as good a scholar as I am.”
“Is that true?” said Dick, eagerly, a flush of gratification coloring his brown cheek.
“Yes,” said Fosdick. “You’ve made wonderful progress. I propose, now that evening schools have begun, that we join one, and study together through the winter.”
“All right,” said Dick. “I’d be willin’ to go now; but when I first began to study I was ashamed to have anybody know that I was so ignorant. Do you really mean, Fosdick, that I know as much as you?”
“Yes, Dick, it’s true.”
“Then I’ve got you to thank for it,” said Dick, earnestly. “You’ve made me what I am.”
“And haven’t you paid me, Dick?”
“By payin’ the room-rent,” said Dick, impulsively. “What’s that? It isn’t half enough. I wish you’d take half my money; you deserve it.”
“Thank you, Dick, but you’re too generous. You’ve more than paid me. Who was it took my part when all the other boys imposed upon me? And who gave me money to buy clothes, and so got me my situation?”
“Oh, that’s nothing!” said Dick.
“It’s a great deal, Dick. I shall never forget it. But now it seems to me you might try to get a situation yourself.”
“Do I know enough?”
“You know as much as I do.”
“Then I’ll try,” said Dick, decidedly.
“I wish there was a place in our store,” said Fosdick. “It would be pleasant for us to be together.”
“Never mind,” said Dick; “there’ll be plenty of other chances. P’r’aps A. T. Stewart might like a partner. I wouldn’t ask more’n a quarter of the profits.”
“Which would be a very liberal proposal on your part,” said Fosdick, smiling. “But perhaps Mr. Stewart might object to a partner living on Mott Street.”
“I’d just as lieves move to Fifth Avenoo,” said Dick. “I ain’t got no prejudices in favor of Mott Street.”
“Nor I,” said Fosdick, “and in fact I have been thinking it might be a good plan for us to move as soon as we could afford. Mrs. Mooney doesn’t keep the room quite so neat as she might.”
“No,” said Dick. “She ain’t got no prejudices against dirt. Look at that towel.”
Dick held up the article indicated, which had now seen service nearly a week, and hard service at that—Dick’s avocation causing him to be rather hard on towels.
“Yes,” said Fosdick, “I’ve got about tired of it. I guess we can find some better place without having to pay much more. When we move, you must let me pay my share of the rent.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Dick. “Do you propose to move to Fifth Avenoo?”
“Not just at present, but to some more agreeable neighborhood than this. We’ll wait till you get a situation, and then we can decide.”
A few days later, as Dick was looking about for customers in the neighborhood of the Park, his attention was drawn to a fellow bootblack, a boy about a year younger than himself, who appeared to have been crying.
“What’s the matter, Tom?” asked Dick. “Haven’t you had luck today?”
“Pretty good,” said the boy; “but we’re havin’ hard times at home. Mother fell last week and broke her arm, and tomorrow we’ve got to pay the rent, and if we don’t the landlord says he’ll turn us out.”
“Haven’t you got anything except what you earn?” asked Dick.
“No,” said Tom, “not now. Mother used to earn three or four dollars a week; but she can’t do nothin’ now, and my little sister and brother are too young.”
Dick had quick sympathies. He had been so poor himself, and obliged to submit to so many privations that he knew from personal experience how hard it was. Tom Wilkins he knew as an excellent boy who never squandered his money, but faithfully carried
