Wait and Hope Part 18

"Uncommonly hungry," said Ben. "I guess it's travelling that gives me an appet.i.te. What a nice place you live in, Mr. Manning! It's very handy having water come out of pipes. How do they do it?"

"I'll explain to you some time, when we are not in such a hurry."

"All right, sir."

Ben was soon dressed, and went down to breakfast with his new patron. There was quite a difference between the appearance of the table at this fas.h.i.+onable boarding house and their plain breakfast table at home; but Ben was one who easily adapted himself to new circ.u.mstances, and did not display any greenness.

"Now, Ben," said Mr. Manning, as they rose from the table, "I suppose you are not in a very great hurry to go home."

"No, sir."

"You would like to see a little of the city?"

"Yes, sir, very much."

"I think day after to-morrow will be early enough to go back. You write a line to your aunt, so that she need not feel anxious."

"Thank you, sir. Where is the little girl?"

"She is temporarily staying at the house of a married sister of mine.

My sister is rather an invalid, or she might keep her permanently. I shall not have time to go round and introduce you to-day, for my business will occupy me closely."

"Where shall I go, sir?" asked Ben.

"Wherever you like. You can wander round the city, and see whatever pleases you. Only be back a little before six o'clock, for that is our dinner hour."

"Dinner at six!" repeated Ben astonished, for he had always been accustomed to dine at twelve. "When do you take supper?"

"We don't sup at all, that is, not regularly. In the middle of the day we take lunch. You can go into some restaurant, and buy lunch."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, by the by, have you got any money?" asked Mr. Manning.

"A little," answered Ben.

"How much?"

Ben produced thirty-seven cents in change.

"That is rather short allowance," said Mr. Manning. "Here take this."

He handed him a two-dollar bill.

"I don't need so much, Mr. Manning," said Ben.

But two dollars were not so much in the eyes of his patron, as in his.

"I dare say you can find a use for it," he said smiling.

"Thank you, sir."

"Well, good morning; or perhaps it will be as well for you to accompany me as far as Broadway. There I shall take a car, and you can saunter along as you please."

A brief walk brought them to Broadway, and then they separated.

Ben wandered down Broadway, amused at the sight until he same to Twenty-third Street, where he stopped. Ben look at it with admiration. He had never seen such structures, nor dreamed of their existence.

"New York's a splendid city!" he said to himself.

As he was looking about him, some one addressed him:

"What are you looking at Johnny?"

"My name isn't Johnny," answered Ben, turning toward the boy who had accosted him.

The boy puffed out his cheeks and whistled.

"When did you come from the country?" he asked.

"Why are you so anxious to know?" inquired Ben, who saw that the other was making game of him, and was not overwell pleased.

"Why, you see, Barnum has offered twenty-five cents for a country greenhorn, and I guess you'll do," said the boy, with his tongue in his cheek.

Ben was irritated at first, but he concluded to take it as a joke.

"I am not for sale at that price," he said, adding good humoredly, "I am green, I suppose. This is my first visit to the city. Can you tell me the name of that building?"

"That's the Imperial Hotel. Have you got a cigarette to spare?"

"No," said Ben; "I don't smoke."

"Then you ain't civilized," said the boy. "I've smoked for five years."

"You have!" exclaimed Ben, amazed. "Why, you don't look any older than I am."

"I'm sixteen."

"And I'm not quite fifteen."

Ben noticed that the boy had none of the youthful bloom which mantled his own cheeks. He was already paying the penalty of his early use of tobacco.

"You're a big boy of your age," said the city boy.

Ben thought that the other was small for his age, but he did not say so.

"Look here, Johnny," said the New York boy.

"My name is Ben."