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Fame and Fortune; or, The Progress of Richard Hunter. Alger Horatio Jr.Читать онлайн книгу.

Fame and Fortune; or, The Progress of Richard Hunter - Alger Horatio Jr.


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nine months. My friend hasn't saved so much, because his salary has been smaller."

      "I won't require you to pay in advance," said Mrs. Browning, graciously. "I am sure I can trust you. Boys who have formed so good a habit of saving can be depended upon. I will get the room ready for you, and you may bring your trunks when you please. My hours are, breakfast at seven, lunch at half-past twelve, and dinner at six."

      "We shan't be able to come to lunch," said Fosdick. "Our stores are too far off."

      "Then I will make half a dollar difference with each of you, making nine dollars a week instead of ten."

      The boys went downstairs, well pleased with the arrangement they had made. Dick insisted upon paying five dollars and a half of the joint weekly expense, leaving three and a half to Fosdick. This would leave the latter two dollars and a half out of his salary, while Dick would have left four and a half. With economy, both thought they could continue to lay up something.

      There was one little embarrassment which suggested itself to the boys. Neither of them had a trunk, having been able to stow away all their wardrobe without difficulty in the drawers of the bureau with which their room in Mott Street was provided.

      "Why are you like an elephant, Fosdick?" asked Dick, jocosely, as they emerged into the street.

      "I don't know, I'm sure."

      "Because you haven't got any trunk except what you carry round with you."

      "We'll have to get trunks, or perhaps carpet-bags would do."

      "No," said Dick, decisively, "it aint 'spectable to be without a trunk, and we're going to be 'spectable now."

      "Respectable, Dick."

      "All right,—respectable, then. Let's go and buy each a trunk."

      This advice seemed reasonable, and Fosdick made no objection. The boys succeeded in getting two decent trunks at three dollars apiece, and ordered them sent to their room in Mott Street. It must be remembered by my readers, who may regard the prices given as too low, that the events here recorded took place several years before the war, when one dollar was equal to two at the present day.

      At the close of the afternoon Fosdick got away from the store an hour earlier, and the boys, preceded by an expressman bearing their trunks, went to their new home. They had just time to wash and comb their hair, when the bell rang for dinner, and they went down to the dining-room.

      Nearly all the boarders were assembled, and were sitting around a long table spread with a variety of dishes. Mrs. Browning was a good manager, and was wise enough to set a table to which her boarders could not object.

      "This way, if you please, young gentlemen," she said, pointing to two adjoining seats on the opposite side of the table.

      Our hero, it must be confessed, felt a little awkward, not being used to the formality of a boarding-house, and feeling that the eyes of twenty boarders were upon him. His confusion was increased, when, after taking his seat, he saw sitting opposite him, a young man whose boots he remembered to have blacked only a week before. Observing Dick's look, Mrs. Browning proceeded to introduce him to the other.

      "Mr. Clifton," she said, "let me introduce Mr. Hunter and his friend, Mr. Fosdick,—two new members of our family."

      Dick bowed rather awkwardly, and the young man said, "Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Hunter. Your face looks quite familiar. I think I must have seen you before."

      "I think I've seen you before," said Dick.

      "It's strange I can't think where," said the young man, who had not the least idea that the well-dressed boy before him was the boot-black who had brushed his boots near the Park railings the Monday previous. Dick did not think proper to enlighten him. He was not ashamed of his past occupation; but it was past, and he wanted to be valued for what he might become, not for what he had been.

      "Are you in business, Mr. Hunter?" inquired Mr. Clifton.

      It sounded strange to our hero to be called Mr. Hunter; but he rather liked it. He felt that it sounded respectable.

      "I am at Rockwell & Cooper's, on Pearl Street," said Dick.

      "I know the place. It is a large firm."

      Dick was glad to hear it, but did not say that he knew nothing about it.

      The dinner was a good one, much better than the two boys were accustomed to get at the eating-houses which in times past they had frequented. Dick noticed carefully how the others did, and acquitted himself quite creditably, so that no one probably suspected that he had not always been used to as good a table.

      When the boys rose from the table, Mrs. Browning said, "Won't you walk into the parlor, young gentlemen? We generally have a little music after dinner. Some of the young ladies are musical. Do either of you play?"

      Dick said he sometimes played marbles; at which a young lady laughed, and Dick, catching the infection, laughed too.

      "Miss Peyton, Mr. Hunter," introduced Mrs. Browning.

      Miss Peyton made a sweeping courtesy, to which Dick responded by a bow, turning red with embarrassment.

      "Don't you sing, Mr. Hunter?" asked the young lady.

      "I aint much on warblin'," said Dick, forgetting for the moment where he was.

      This droll answer, which Miss Peyton supposed to be intentionally funny, convulsed the young lady with merriment.

      "Perhaps your friend sings?" she said.

      Thereupon Fosdick was also introduced. To Dick's astonishment, he answered that he did a little. It was accordingly proposed that they should enter the next room, where there was a piano. The young lady played some well-known melodies, and Fosdick accompanied her with his voice, which proved to be quite sweet and melodious.

      "You are quite an acquisition to our circle," said Miss Peyton, graciously. "Have you boarded in this neighborhood before?"

      "No," said Fosdick; "at another part of the city."

      He was afraid she would ask him in what street, but fortunately she forbore.

      In about half an hour the boys went up to their own room, where they lighted the gas, and, opening their trunks, placed the contents in the bureau-drawers.

      "Blessed if it don't seem strange," said Dick, "for a feller brought up as I have been to live in this style. I wonder what Miss Peyton would have said if she had known what I had been."

      "You haven't any cause to be ashamed of it, Dick. It wasn't a very desirable business, but it was honest. Now you can do something better. You must adapt yourself to your new circumstances."

      "So I mean to," said Dick. "I'm going in for respectability. When I get to be sixty years old, I'm goin' to wear gold spectacles and walk round this way, like the old gentlemen I see most every day on Wall Street."

      Dick threw his head back, and began to walk round the room with a pompous step and an air of great importance.

      "I hope we'll both rise, Dick; we've got well started now, and there've been other boys, worse off than we are, who have worked hard, and risen to Fame and Fortune."

      "We can try," said Dick. "Now let us go out and have a walk."

      "All right," said Fosdick.

      They went downstairs, and out into the street. Accustomed to the lower part of the city, there was a novelty in the evening aspect of Broadway, with its shops and theatres glittering with light. They sauntered carelessly along, looking in at the shop-windows, feeling more and more pleased with their change of location. All at once Dick's attention was drawn to a gentleman accompanied by a boy of about his own size, who was walking a little in advance.

      "Stop a minute," he said to Fosdick, and hurrying forward placed his hand on the boy's arm.

      "How are you, Frank?" he said.

      Frank Whitney, for it was he, turned in some surprise and looked at Dick, but did not at first recognize in the neat, well-dressed boy of fifteen the ragged boot-black he had encountered a year before.

      "I don't think


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