From Farm to Fortune; or, Nat Nason's Strange Experience by Jr. Horatio Alger (great books of all time .TXT) 📕

"That's certainly an odd letter," thought Nat, as he read it over a second time. "Wonder what that other envelope contains?"

His curiosity was great, but he was a thoroughly conscientious lad, and after a while he put the sealed envelope in an inside pocket, and pinned it there, so that it might not drop out.

"He was a curious fellow, and this is one of his odd ways of doing things," he reasoned. "Well, the envelope will give me some hope, if nothing else."

Nat had a map of the route in his possession, and he spent nearly the whole day in watching the towns and villages through which the train passed. At Albany came a long wait, and he walked out on the platform to stretch his legs. Then the train went on its way down the shore of the Hudson River, and about nine o'clock in the evening rolled into the Grand Central Depot, at Forty-second Street, New York City.

The great station was a revelation to Nat, and when he got out on the street, the lines of cabs, cars, and elevated trains made him stop short in utter bewilderment.

"This is ten times worse than Cleveland or Buffalo," was his comment. "What a racket on all sides! I wonder where all these folks are going?"

"Cab! coupé?" bawled a line of hackmen standing near. "Carry your baggage?" came from a boy, and he caught hold of Nat's dress-suit case.

"Here, let go of that!" cried our hero, and shoved the boy to one side.

"Carry it for you anywhere you want to go," went on the street urchin.

"I can carry it myself."

After a struggle Nat found himself out of the crowd and on a distant street corner. It was late, but the many street and shop lights made the scene almost as bright as day.

He did not know where to go, and so continued to walk along until he came to Sixth Avenue. Here he came to another halt.

"There is no sense in my walking myself to death to-night," he thought. "I had better wait till morning for that—when I go in search of a job."

At that moment a boy of almost his own age stepped up to him with a bundle of newspapers under his arm.

"Sporting extra?" he asked, holding out two evening papers. "All the latest baseball and racing news."

"I don't want any paper," answered Nat. "But I wish you'd do me a favor."

"What do you want?" demanded the other boy, promptly.

"I want to find a cheap but good boarding house. Do you know of any around here?"

The New York boy looked Nat over critically. The examination, brief as it was, appeared to satisfy him.

"Just come to the city?"

"Yes."

"Looking for work?"

"Yes."

"How much do you want to pay for board?"

"Not any more than I have to," answered Nat with a grin. "I'm not rich."

"I see. Well, mother takes boarders. It might be she would take you."

"For how much?"

"Four or five dollars a week."

"Oh, I can't pay that much! Why, where I come from you can get good board for three dollars a week."

"That's the country, ain't it?"

"Yes."

"Well, New York City ain't the country. You have to pay more for things here."

"I suppose that is true."

"Come on over and talk to mother. What's your handle? Mine is Dick Talcott."

"Nat Nason. I am glad to know you." And our hero shook hands, which made the newsboy grin all over.

With his papers under his arm, Dick Talcott hurried down a side street, and around a corner. He stopped in front of a four-story brick house.

"We live on the third floor," said he. "Come on up," and he led the way up the somewhat narrow stairs. It was pitch-dark, and Nat kept close behind, so as not to run into anything.

"Mother, here is a boy who wants board," announced Dick, as he threw open a door. Then the pair entered a living room, where a middle-aged woman sat by a table, mending some underwear.

The woman arose and came forward, and Nat saw that she was rather pleasant looking. She was a widow, her husband having died only the year previous.

"So you wish board?" she said. "I will show you what rooms I have."

"He don't want to pay much, mother," put in the son. "He's just arrived in New York from the country, and he wants work."

"I can let you have a small hall room, with breakfast and supper, for three dollars and a half," said Mrs. Talcott. "That is the best I can do. Of course, you'll want to take lunch along to your work, unless you get work near here. Where do you come from?"

"Ohio."

"Is that so! The late Mr. Talcott came from Ohio."

"I think I had better take the room, at least for a week," said Nat. The manner of the lady pleased him. She was evidently poor, but of good breeding.

"Very well. Do you want the room to-night?"

"Yes."

"Have you had supper?"

"Yes, I had a bite on the train."

"Very well, I'll get the room ready for you."

"And I'll go out and finish selling my papers," said Dick Talcott, and ran out of the room and down the stairs, two steps at a time.

Having paid for his room for one week in advance, Nat sat down to talk to Mrs. Talcott. He found her a very pleasant woman, whose experiences in life had been much varied.

"Dick is the only person left to me," said she. "He had both a brother and a sister, but they died when they were young."

"Does he sell papers every day?"

"Oh, yes, and he has a morning route besides, which he carries for a stationer on the Avenue."

"I suppose he makes quite some money, doesn't he? Excuse me for asking, but you know, I've got to make my living too."

"The route pays him a dollar and a quarter a week, and he makes three or four dollars besides."

"Well, five dollars a week is better than nothing."

"The stationer says he will give Dick a place this fall. That will pay six or seven dollars a week."

"I wish I had a job at six or seven dollars a week."

"Have you anything in view?"

"Not a thing. I am going out in the morning to look for work."

"You may find it very hard to get an opening."

"Oh, I guess I can find something," answered Nat, confidently.

"I trust you are not disappointed. So many come in from the country and find it impossible to get an opening."

"I wish I had a map of New York City. I could study it, and locate the streets."

"I have such a map," was the answer, and the lady brought it forth. "I will put it on the table just as it should be. This is east and this is west, and here is where this house is located, and here is the Grand Central Depot. Now, you can do your best to fix the rest of it in your head."

Nat pored over the map for a good hour, and during that time located Broadway, and a number of other important thoroughfares.

"It's certainly a tremendously big city," said he. "One could get lost without half trying."

"You can carry that map around this week, if you wish," said Mrs. Talcott. "It may help you a great deal."

Nat went to bed with his head in something of a whirl from the long train ride and from studying the map. It was a long while ere he could close his eyes in sleep.

"I'm up against it now," he mused. "It's sink or swim, and nothing else."

He resolved to arise early, and as soon as he heard Dick Talcott get up, he dressed and went into the dining room to meet the newsboy.

"Hullo, how did you sleep?" asked Dick.

"Fairly good, considering. Are you going out on your route now?"

"Yes."

"I want to buy some papers that have advertisements of Help Wanted in them. Which are the best papers?"

Dick named them. "You needn't buy them unless you wish. I'll let you look over my bunch, if you