Baboo Jabberjee, B.A. by F. Anstey (read e book .txt) 📕

his blacking box. He was terribly mortified to have it known that he had been forced into such a business. If Tom had nothing worse to be ashamed of he need not have blushed, but he was suffering from false shame.

“When did you come to the city?” he stammered.

“Only this morning.”

“I suppose you are surprised to see me in this business,” said Tom, awkwardly.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” said Grant. “It is an honest business.”

“It's an awful come down for me,” said Tom, uncomfortably. “The fact is, I've had hard luck.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Grant.

“I expected a place in Wall Street, but I came just too late, and things are awful dull anyway. Then I was robbed of my money.”

“How much?” asked Grant, curiously, for he didn't believe a word of it.

“Eight dollars and thirty-three cents,” replied Tom, glibly.

“I thought you were too smart to be robbed,” said Grant, slyly. “If it had been a green boy from the country like me, now, it wouldn't have been surprising.”

“I was asleep when I was robbed,” explained Tom, hurriedly. “A fellow got into my room in the night, and picked my pocket. I couldn't help that, now, could I?”

“I suppose not.”

“So I had to get something to do, or go back to Colebrook. I say, Grant—-”

“Well?”

“Don't you tell any of the fellers at home what business I'm in, that's a good fellow.”

“I won't if you don't want me to,” said Grant.

“You see, it's only a few days till I can get something else to do.”

“It's a great deal better blacking boots than being idle, in my opinion,” said Grant.

“That's the way I look at it. But you didn't tell me what you came to the city for?”

“I'm coming here for good,” announced Grant.

“You haven't got a place, have you?” ejaculated Tom, in surprise.

“Yes, I am to enter the office of Mr. Reynolds, a stock broker. There is his sign.”

“You don't say so I. Why, that's just the sort of place I wanted. How did you get the chance?”

“I got acquainted with Mr. Reynolds on board the cars that day we came to New York together.”

“And you asked him for the place?”

“I asked him this morning.”

“You might have given me the chance,” grumbled Tom, enviously. “You knew it was the sort of place I was after.”

“I don't think I was called upon to do that,” said Grant, smiling. “Besides, he wouldn't have accepted you.”

“Why not? Ain't I as smart as you, I'd like to know?” retorted Tom Calder, angrily.

“He heard us talking in the cars, and didn't like what you said.”

“What did I say?”

“He doesn't approve of boys smoking cigarettes and going to bucket shops. You spoke of both.”

“How did he hear?”

“He was sitting just behind us.”

“Was it that old chap that was sittin' with you when I came back from the smoking car?”

“Yes.”

“Just my luck,” said Tom, ruefully.

“When are you goin' to work?” asked Tom, after a pause.

“Next Monday.”

“Where are you going to board? We might take a room together, you know. It would be kind of social, as we both come from the same place.”

It did not occur to Grant that the arrangement would suit him at all, but he did not think it necessary to say so. He only said: “I am going to Mr. Reynolds' house, just at first.”

“You don't say so! Why, he's taken a regular fancy to you.”

“If he has, I hope he won't get over it.”

“I suppose he lives in a handsome brownstone house uptown.”

“Very likely; I've never seen the house.”

“Well, some folks has luck, but I ain't one of 'em,” grumbled Tom.

“Your luck is coming, I hope, Tom.”

“I wish it would come pretty soon, then; I say, suppose your folks won't let you take the place?” he asked, suddenly, brightening up.

“They won't oppose it.” “I thought they wanted you to go to college.”

“I can't afford it. It would take too long before I could earn anything, and I ought to be helping the family.”

“I'm goin' to look out for number one,” said Tom, shrugging his shoulders. “That's all I can do.”

Tom's mother was a hard-working woman, and had taken in washing for years. But for her the family would often have lacked for food. His father was a lazy, intemperate man, who had no pride of manhood, and cared only for himself. In this respect Tom was like him, though the son had not as yet become intemperate.

“I don't think there is any chance of my giving up the place,” answered Grant. “If I do, I will mention your name.”

“That's a good fellow.”

Grant did not volunteer to recommend Tom, for he could not have done so with a clear conscience. This omission, however, Tom did not notice.

“Well, Tom, I must be going. Good-by, and good luck.”

Grant went home with a cheerful face, and announced his good luck to his mother.

“I am glad you are going to your employer's house,” she said. “I wish you could remain there permanently.”

“So do I, mother; but I hope at any rate to get a comfortable boarding place. Tom Calder wants to room with me.”

“I hope you won't think of it,” said Mrs. Thornton, alarmed.

“Not for a moment. I wish Tom well, but I shouldn't like to be too intimate with him. And now, mother, I think I ought to write to Uncle Godfrey, and tell him what I have decided upon.”