Fame and Fortune Part 23

Those who have read "Ragged d.i.c.k" will remember that he had a very sprightly and engaging daughter of ten years of age, who seemed to have taken an especial fancy to d.i.c.k. Being wealthy, his kindness had been of great service to both boys, inspiring them with self-respect, and encouraging them to persevere in their efforts to raise themselves to a higher position.

The dinner-bell rang just as the boys had finished their discussion, and they went down and took places at the table.

Soon Miss Peyton came sailing in, shaking her ringlets coquettishly. She was proud of these ringlets, and was never tired of trying their fascinations upon gentlemen. But somehow they had not succeeded in winning a husband.

"Good-evening, Mr. Hunter," said she. "You look as if you had had good news."

"Do I?" said d.i.c.k. "Perhaps you can tell what it is."

"I know how it came," said Miss Peyton, significantly.

"Then I hope you won't keep me in suspense any longer than you can help."

"Perhaps you'd rather I wouldn't mention before company."

"Never mind," said d.i.c.k. "Don't have any regard to my feelin's. They're tough, and can stand a good deal."

"How do you like the letter G?" asked Miss Peyton, slyly.

"Very much," said d.i.c.k, "as long as it behaves itself. What is your favorite letter?"

"Don't think I'm going to tell you, Mr. Hunter. That was a pretty little note, and in a young lady's hand too."

"Yes," said d.i.c.k. "Perhaps you'd like to see it."

"You wouldn't show it to me on any account, I know."

"You may see it if you like," said d.i.c.k.

"May I, really? I should like to very much; but would the young lady like it?"

"I don't think she'd mind. She's written one to my friend Fosd.i.c.k just like it."

d.i.c.k pa.s.sed the invitation across the table.

"It's very pretty indeed," said Miss Peyton. "And is Miss Ida Greyson very handsome?"

"I'm no judge of beauty," said d.i.c.k.

"So she lives in West Twenty-Fourth Street. Is her father rich?"

"I don't know how rich," said d.i.c.k; "but my impression is that his taxes last year were more than mine."

"I know now what your favorite letters are," said Miss Peyton. "They are I. G."

"I. G. are very well as long as you don't put P. before them," said d.i.c.k. "Thank you for another cup of tea, Mrs. Browning."

"I should think you'd need some tea after such a brilliant effort, Hunter," said Mr. Clifton, from across the table.

"Yes," said d.i.c.k. "I find my brain gets exhausted every now and then by my intellectual efforts. Aint you troubled that way?"

"Can't say I am. Don't you want to go out and try a game of billiards this evening?"

"No, thank you. I've got to study."

"I expect to see you a college professor some of these days."

"I haven't made up my mind yet," said d.i.c.k. "I'm open to an offer, as the oyster remarked when he was placed on the table. If I can serve my fellow-men best by bein' a college professor, and gettin' a big salary, I'm willin' to sacrifice my private feelin's for the public good."

"Do you agree with your friend, Mr. Fosd.i.c.k?" said Miss Peyton. "Won't you favor us with your views?"

"I have none worth mentioning," said Fosd.i.c.k. "I leave my friend to do the talking, while I attend to the eating."

"Mr. Hunter's remarks are very entertaining," said Miss Peyton.

"Thank you," said d.i.c.k; "but my friend prefers a different kind of entertainment."

The boys rose from the table, and went up to their room to look over the evening's lessons. They were quite pleased with their new teacher, whom they found not only competent for his task, but interested in promoting their progress. He was able to help them readily out of their difficulties, and encouraged them to persevere. So they came to look forward to their evening lessons not as tasks, but as pleasant exercises.

"It's strange," said d.i.c.k, one evening after the teacher had left them; "I used to enjoy goin' to the Old Bowery so much. I went two or three times a week sometimes. Now I would a good deal rather stay at home and study."

"Then you didn't have a home, and the lighted theatre must have been much pleasanter than the cold and cheerless streets."

"Yes, that was it. I used to get so tired sometimes of having no home to go to, and n.o.body to speak to that I cared about."

"You'd hardly like to go back to the old life, d.i.c.k?"

"No, it would come pretty hard to me now. I didn't seem to mind it so much then."

"Because you had never known anything better."

"No. It was a lucky day when I met you, Fosd.i.c.k. I'd never have had the patience to learn. Readin', or tryin' to read, always gave me the headache."

"You always leave off the last letter in such words as 'reading,' d.i.c.k.

You should be more careful, now that you a.s.sociate with educated persons."

"I know it, Fosd.i.c.k, but I'm so used to droppin'--I mean dropping--the g that it comes natural. I will try to remember it. But about this party,--shall we have to get new clothes?"

"No, we have each a nice suit, and we shan't be expected to dress in the height of the fas.h.i.+on."

"I wish it was over. I dread it."

"So do I a little; but I think we shall enjoy it. Ida is a nice girl."

"That's so. If I had a sister I'd like her to be like Ida."

"Perhaps she'd like a brother like you. I notice she seems to fancy your company."

"I hope you're not jealous, Fosd.i.c.k. You can be a brother to Miss Peyton, you know."