The Telegraph Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger (ebook reader for laptop txt) 📕

for the house on Madison avenue.

"I'll lend you my clo'es if you want 'em," said Dick.

"There are too many spots of blacking on them, Dick. As I'm a newsboy, it wouldn't look appropriate. I shall have to make mine answer."

"I'll shine up the blackin' spots if you want me to."

"Never mind, Dick. I'll wait till next time for your suit."

CHAPTER IX. VICTOR DUPONT.

As Frank was walking on Madison avenue, a little before reaching the house of Mr. Bowen he met a boy of his own age, whom he recognized. Victor Dupont had spent the previous summer at the hotel in the country village where Frank had lived until he came to the city. Victor was proud of his social position, but time hung so heavily upon his hands in the country that he was glad to keep company with the village boys. Frank and he had frequently gone fishing together, and had been associated in other amusements, so that they were for the time quite intimate. The memories of home and past pleasures thronged upon our hero as he met Victor, and his face flushed with pleasure.

"Why, Victor," he said, eagerly, extending his hand, "how glad I am to see you!"

Frank forgot that intimacy in the country does not necessarily lead to intimacy in the city, and he was considerably surprised when Victor, not appearing to notice his offered hand, said coldly, "I don't think I remember you."

"Don't remember me!" exclaimed Frank, amazed. "Why, I am Frank Kavanagh! Don't you remember how much we were together last summer, and what good times we had fishing and swimming together?"

"Yes, I believe I do remember you now," drawled Victor, still not offering his hand, or expressing any pleasure at the meeting. "When did you come to the city?"

"I have been here two or three weeks," replied Frank.

"Oh, indeed! Are you going to remain?"

"Yes, if I can earn a living."

Victor scanned Frank's clothes with a critical, and evidently rather contemptuous, glance.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Are you in a store?"

"No; I am selling papers."

"A newsboy!" said Victor, with a curve of the lip.

"Yes," answered Frank, his pleasure quite chilled by Victor's manner.

"Are you doing well?" asked Victor, more from curiosity than interest.

"I am making my expenses."

"How do you happen to be in this neighborhood? I suppose you sell papers down-town."

"Yes, but I am invited to dinner."

"Not here—on the avenue!" ejaculated Victor.

"Yes," answered Frank, enjoying the other's surprise.

"Where?"

Frank mentioned the number.

"Why, that is next to my house. Mr. Bowen lives there."

"Yes."

"Perhaps you know some of the servants," suggested Victor.

"I know one," said Frank, smiling, for he read Victor's thoughts; "but my invitation comes from Mr. Bowen."

"Did you ever dine there before?" asked Victor, puzzled.

"Yes, last week."

"You must excuse my mentioning it, but I should hardly think you would like to sit down at a gentleman's table in that shabby suit."

"I don't," answered Frank; "but I have no better."

"Then you ought to decline the invitation."

"I would, but for appearing impolite."

"It seems very strange that Mr. Bowen should invite a newsboy to dinner."

"Perhaps if you'd mention what you think of it," said Frank, somewhat nettled, "he would recall the invitation."

"Oh, it's nothing to me," said Victor; "but I thought I'd mention it, as I know more of etiquette than you do."

"You are very considerate," said Frank, with a slight tinge of sarcasm in his tone.

By this time he had reached the house of Mr. Bowen, and the two boys parted.

Frank could not help thinking a little about what Victor had said. His suit, as he looked down at it, seemed shabbier than ever. Again it occurred to him that perhaps Mr. Bowen had forgotten the invitation, and this would make it very awkward for him. As he waited for the door to open he decided that, if it should appear that he was not expected, he would give some excuse, and go away.

Susan opened the door.

"Mr. Bowen invited me to come here to dinner to-night," began Frank, rather nervously.

"Yes, you are expected," said Susan, very much to his relief. "Wipe your feet, and come right in."

Frank obeyed.

"You are to go upstairs and get ready for dinner," said Susan, and she led the way to the same chamber into which our hero had been ushered the week before.

"There won't be much getting ready," thought Frank. "However, I can stay there till I hear the bell ring."

As he entered the room he saw a suit of clothes and some underclothing lying on the bed.

"They are for you," said Susan, laconically.

"For me!" exclaimed Frank, in surprise.

"Yes, put them on, and when you come down to dinner Mr. Bowen will see how they fit."

"Is it a present from him?" asked Frank, overwhelmed with surprise and gratitude, for he could see that the clothes were very handsome.

"Well, they aint from me," said Susan, "so it's likely they come from him. Don't be too long, for Mr. Bowen doesn't like to have any one late to dinner."

Susan had been in the service of her present mistress fifteen years, and was a privileged character. She liked to have her own way; but had sterling qualities, being neat, faithful, and industrious.

"I wonder whether I am awake or dreaming," thought Frank, when he was left alone. "I shouldn't like to wake up and find it was all a dream."

He began at once to change his shabby clothes for the new ones. He found that the articles provided were a complete outfit, including shirt, collar, cuffs, stockings; in fact, everything that was needful. The coat, pants, and vest were a neat gray, and proved to be an excellent fit. In the bosom of the shirt were neat studs, and the cuffs were supplied with sleeve-buttons to correspond. When Frank stood before the glass, completely attired, he hardly knew himself. He was as well dressed as his aristocratic acquaintance, Victor Dupont, and looked more like a city boy than a boy bred in the country.

"I never looked so well in my life," thought our young hero, complacently. "How kind Mr. Bowen is!"

Frank did not know it; but he was indebted for this gift to Susan's suggestion. When her master told her in the morning that Frank was coming to dinner, she said, "It's a pity the boy hadn't some better clothes."

"I didn't notice his clothes," said Mr. Bowen. "Are they shabby?"

"Yes; and they are almost worn out. They don't look fit for one who is going to sit at your table."

"Bless my soul! I never thought of that. You think he needs some new clothes."

"He needs them badly."

"I will call at Baldwin's, and order some ready-made; but I don't know his size."

"He's about two inches shorter than you, Mr. Bowen. Tell 'em that, and they will know. He ought to have shirts and stockings, too."

"So he shall," said the old man, quite interested. "He shall have a full rig-out from top to toe. Where shall I go for the shirts and things?"

Susan had a nephew about Frank's age, and she was prepared to give the necessary information. The old gentleman, who had no business to attend to, was delighted to have something to fill up his time. He went out directly after breakfast, or as soon as he had read the morning paper, and made choice of the articles already described, giving strict injunctions that they should be sent home immediately.

This was the way Frank got his new outfit.

When our hero came downstairs Mr. Bowen was waiting eagerly to see the transformation. The result delighted him.

"Why, I shouldn't have known you!" he exclaimed, lifting both hands. "I had no idea new clothes would change you so much."

"I don't know how to thank you, sir," said Frank, gratefully.

"I never should have thought of it if it hadn't been for Susan."

"Then I thank you, Susan," said Frank, offering his hand to the girl, as she entered the room.

Susan was pleased. She liked to be appreciated; and she noted with satisfaction the great improvement in Frank's appearance.

"You are quite welcome," she said; "but it was master's money that paid for the clothes."

"It was your kindness that made him think of it," said Frank.

From that moment Susan became Frank's fast friend. We generally like those whom we have benefited, if our services are suitably acknowledged.

CHAPTER X. A NEW PROSPECT.

"Well, Frank, and how is your business?" asked the old gentleman, when they were sitting at the dinner-table.

"Pretty good, sir."

"Are you making your expenses?"

"Yes, sir; just about."

"That is well. Mind you never run into debt. That is a bad plan."

"I shan't have to now, sir. If I had had to buy clothes for myself, I might have had to."

"Do you find the shirts and stockings fit you?"

"Yes, sir; they are just right."

"I bought half a dozen of each. Susan will give you the bundle when you are ready to go. If they had not been right, they could have been exchanged."

"Thank you, sir. I shall feel rich with so many clothes."

"Where do you sleep, Frank?"

"At the Newsboy's Lodging-House."

"Is there any place there where you can keep your clothes?"

"Yes, sir. Each boy has a locker to himself."

"That is a good plan. It would be better if you had a room to yourself."

"I can't afford it yet, sir. The lodging-house costs me only forty-two cents a week for a bed, and I could not get a room for that."

"Bless my soul! That is very cheap. Really, I think I could save money by giving up my house, and going there to sleep."

"I don't think you would like it, sir," said Frank, smiling.

"Probably not. Now, Frank, I am going to mention a plan I have for you. You don't want to be a newsboy all your life."

"No, sir; I think I should get tired of it by the time I was fifty."

"My friend Thompson, the gentleman who was walking with me when we first saw you, is an officer of the American District Telegraph Company. They employ a large number of boys at their various offices to run errands; and, in fact, to do anything that is required of them. Probably you have seen some of the boys going about the city."

"Yes, sir; they have a blue uniform."

"Precisely. How would you like to get a situation of that kind?"

"Very much, sir," said Frank, promptly.

"Would you like it better than being a newsboy?"

"Yes, sir."

"My friend Thompson, to whom I spoke on the subject, says he will take you on in a few weeks, provided you will qualify yourself for the post."

"I will do that, sir, if you will tell me how."

"You must be well acquainted with the city in all its parts, know the locations of different hotels, prominent buildings, have a fair education, and be willing to make yourself generally useful. You will have to satisfy the superintendent that you are fitted for the position."

"I think my education will be sufficient," said Frank, "for I always went to school till just before I came to the city. I know something about the lower part of the city, but I will go about every day during the hours when I am not selling papers till I am familiar with all parts of it."

"Do so, and when there is a vacancy I will let you know."

"How much pay shall I get, sir, if they accept me?"

"About three dollars a week at first, and more when you get familiar with your duties. No doubt money will also be given you by some who employ you, though you will not be allowed to ask for any fees. Very likely you will get nearly as much in this way as from your salary."

Frank's face expressed satisfaction.

"That will be bully," he said.

"I beg pardon," said the old gentleman, politely. "What did you remark?"

"That will be excellent," said Frank, blushing.

"I thought you spoke of a bully."

"It was a word I learned from Dick Rafferty," said Frank, feeling rather embarrassed.

"And who is Dick Rafferty?"

"One of my friends at the Lodging-House."

"Unless his education is better than yours I would not advise you to learn any of his words."

"I beg your pardon, sir."

"You must excuse my offering you advice. It is the privilege of the old to advise the young."

"I shall always be glad to follow your advice, Mr. Bowen," said Frank.

"Good boy, good boy," said the old gentleman, approvingly. "I wish all boys were like you. Some think they know more than their grandfathers. There's one of that kind who lives next door."

"His name is Victor Dupont, isn't it, sir?"

Mr. Bowen looked surprised. "How is it that you know his name?" he asked.

"We were together a good deal last summer.