[Lyric] Ragged Dick Chapter 20: NINE MONTHS LATER (Horatio Alger)

The next morning Fosdick rose early, put on his new suit, and, after
getting breakfast, set out for the Broadway store in which he had
obtained a position. He left his little blacking-box in the room.

"It'll do to brush my own shoes," he said. "Who knows but I may have
to come back to it again?"

"No danger," said Dick; "I'll take care of the feet, and you'll have
to look after the heads, now you're in a hat-store."

"I wish you had a place too," said Fosdick.

"I don't know enough yet," said Dick. "Wait till I've gradooated."

"And can put A.B. after your name."

"What's that?"

"It stands for Bachelor of Arts. It's a degree that students get
when they graduate from college."
"Oh," said Dick, "I didn't know but it meant A Boot-black. I can put
that after my name now. Wouldn't Dick Hunter, A.B., sound tip-top?"

"I must be going," said Fosdick. "It won't do for me to be late the
very first morning."

"That's the difference between you and me," said Dick. "I'm my own
boss, and there ain't no one to find fault with me if I'm late. But I
might as well be goin' too. There's a gent as comes down to his
store pretty early that generally wants a shine."

The two boys parted at the Park. Fosdick crossed it, and proceeded
to the hat-store, while Dick, hitching up his pants, began to look
about him for a customer. It was seldom that Dick had to wait long.
He was always on the alert, and if there was any business to do
he was always sure to get his share of it. He had now a stronger
inducement than ever to attend strictly to business; his little
stock of money in the savings bank having been nearly exhausted by
his liberality to his room-mate. He determined to be as economical
as possible, and moreover to study as hard as he could, that he
might be able to follow Fosdick's example, and obtain a place in
a store or counting-room. As there were no striking incidents
occurring in our hero's history within the next nine months, I
propose to pass over that period, and recount the progress he made
in that time.
Fosdick was still at the hat-store, having succeeded in giving
perfect satisfaction to Mr. Henderson. His wages had just been
raised to five dollars a week. He and Dick still kept house together
at Mrs. Mooney's lodging-house, and lived very frugally, so that
both were able to save up money. Dick had been unusually successful
in business. He had several regular patrons, who had been drawn to
him by his ready wit, and quick humor, and from two of them he had
received presents of clothing, which had saved him any expense on
that score. His income had averaged quite seven dollars a week in
addition to this. Of this amount he was now obliged to pay one
dollar weekly for the room which he and Fosdick occupied, but he
was still able to save one half the remainder. At the end of nine
months therefore, or thirty-nine weeks, it will be seen that he had
accumulated no less a sum than one hundred and seventeen dollars.
Dick may be excused for feeling like a capitalist when he looked at
the long row of deposits in his little bank-book. There were other
boys in the same business who had earned as much money, but they
had had little care for the future, and spent as they went along,
so that few could boast a bank-account, however small.

"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
boot-black, 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 to-day?"

"Pretty good," said the boy; "but we're havin' hard times at home.
Mother fell last week and broke her arm, and to-morrow 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 it home to
his mother. In the days of his own extravagance and shiftlessness
he had once or twice asked Tom to accompany him to the Old Bowery
or Tony Pastor's, but Tom had always steadily refused.

"I'm sorry for you, Tom," he said. "How much do you owe for rent?"

"Two weeks now," said Tom.

"How much is it a week?"

"Two dollars a week--that makes four."

"Have you got anything towards it?"

"No; I've had to spend all my money for food for mother and the rest
of us. I've had pretty hard work to do that. I don't know what we'll
do. I haven't any place to go to, and I'm afraid mother'll get cold
in her arm."

"Can't you borrow the money somewhere?" asked Dick.

Tom shook his head despondingly.

"All the people I know are as poor as I am," said he. "They'd help
me if they could, but it's hard work for them to get along
themselves."

"I'll tell you what, Tom," said Dick, impulsively, "I'll stand your
friend."

"Have you got any money?" asked Tom, doubtfully.

"Got any money!" repeated Dick. "Don't you know that I run a bank on
my own account? How much is it you need?"

"Four dollars," said Tom. "If we don't pay that before to-morrow
night, out we go. You haven't got as much as that, have you?"

"Here are three dollars," said Dick, drawing out his pocket-book.
"I'll let you have the rest to-morrow, and maybe a little more."

"You're a right down good fellow, Dick," said Tom; "but won't you
want it yourself?"

"Oh, I've got some more," said Dick.

"Maybe I'll never be able to pay you."

"S'pose you don't," said Dick; "I guess I won't fail."

"I won't forget it, Dick. I hope I'll be able to do somethin' for
you sometime."

"All right," said Dick. "I'd ought to help you. I haven't got no
mother to look out for. I wish I had."

There was a tinge of sadness in his tone, as he pronounced the last
four words; but Dick's temperament was sanguine, and he never gave
way to unavailing sadness. Accordingly he began to whistle as he
turned away, only adding, "I'll see you to-morrow, Tom."

The three dollars which Dick had handed to Tom Wilkins were his
savings for the present week. It was now Thursday afternoon. His
rent, which amounted to a dollar, he expected to save out of the
earnings of Friday and Saturday. In order to give Tom the additional
assistance he had promised, Dick would be obliged to have recourse
to his bank-savings. He would not have ventured to trench upon it
for any other reason but this. But he felt that it would be selfish
to allow Tom and his mother to suffer when he had it in his power
to relieve them. But Dick was destined to be surprised, and that in
a disagreeable manner, when he reached home.