Fame and Fortune Part 7

"You see I aint used to society, Fosd.i.c.k."

"Nor I either."

"But it seems to come natural to you. I'm always makin' some blunder."

"You'll get over that in time, d.i.c.k. It's because you have so much fun in you. I am more sober. Miss Peyton seems very much amused by your odd remarks."

"I have to talk so; I can't think of anything else to say."

"There's one thing, d.i.c.k, we mustn't give up at any rate."

"What's that?"

"Studying. We don't either of us know as much as we ought to."

"That's so."

"You can see how much good studying has done for you so far. If it hadn't been for that, you wouldn't have been able to go into Mr.

Rockwell's employment."

"That's true enough, Fosd.i.c.k. I'm afraid I don't know enough now."

"You know enough to get along very well for the present, but you want to rise."

"You're right. When I get to be old and infirm I don't want to be an errand-boy."

"Nor I either. So, d.i.c.k, I think we had better make up our minds to study an hour or an hour and a half every evening. Of course, you can't begin this evening, but there are very few when you can't find the time."

"I'll send a circ'lar to my numerous friends on Fifth Avenue and Madison, tellin' 'em how much I'm obliged for their kind invitations, but the claims of literatoor and science can't be neglected."

"Do you know, d.i.c.k, I think it might be well for us to begin French?"

"I wonder what Johnny Nolan would say if I should inquire after his health in the polly-voo language?"

"It wouldn't be the first time you have astonished him."

"Well, Fosd.i.c.k, I'm in for it if you think it's best. Now tell me what necktie I shall wear?"

d.i.c.k displayed two. One was bright red with large figures, which he had bought soon after he began to board in Mott Street. The other was a plain black.

"You'd better wear the black one, d.i.c.k," said Fosd.i.c.k, whose taste was simpler and better than his friend's.

"It seems to me it don't look handsome enough," said d.i.c.k, whose taste had not yet been formed, and was influenced by the Bowery style of dress.

"It's more modest, and that is all the better."

"All right. I suppose you know best. Before I get ready I must give a new s.h.i.+ne to my boots. I'm going to make them s.h.i.+ne so you can see your face in them."

"Better let me do that for you, d.i.c.k. I can do it while you're dressing, and that will save time."

"No, Fosd.i.c.k, I was longer in the business than you, and none of the boys could beat me on s.h.i.+nes."

"I don't know but you're right, d.i.c.k. I freely yield the palm to you in that."

d.i.c.k stripped off his coat and vest and went to work with a will. He had never worked so hard for one of his old customers.

"I'm goin' to give it a twenty-five cent s.h.i.+ne," he said.

Just then a knock was heard at the chamber-door.

"Come in!" said d.i.c.k, pausing a moment in his labors.

Mr. Clifton, a fellow-boarder, entered with a cigar in his mouth.

"Holloa," said he, "what's up? Going to the theatre, Hunter?"

"No," said d.i.c.k. "I'm goin' out to spend the evening with some friends up in Madison Avenue."

"So I heard you say at the table, but I thought you were joking."

"No," said d.i.c.k; "it's a fact."

"Seems to me you handle the brush pretty skilfully," remarked Mr.

Clifton. "I should almost think you had served a regular apprentices.h.i.+p at it."

"So I have," answered d.i.c.k. "Didn't you ever see me when I blacked boots on Chatham Square?"

"Good joke!" said the young man, who was far from supposing that d.i.c.k was in earnest. "Oh, yes, of course I've seen you often! Did you make money at it?"

"I retired on a fortun'," said d.i.c.k, "and now I've invested my capital in mercantile pursuits. There," and he took up one boot, and showed it to his visitor, "did you ever see a better s.h.i.+ne than that?"

"No, I didn't, that's a fact," said Clifton, admiringly. "You beat the young rascal I employ all hollow. I say, Hunter, if you ever go into the 's.h.i.+ne' business again, I'll be a regular customer of yours."

"He little thinks I've blacked his boots before now," thought d.i.c.k.

"All right," said he, aloud. "When a commercial crisis comes, and I fail in business, I think I'll remember your encouragin' offer, and remind you of it."

"Have a cigar either of you?" asked Clifton, drawing out a case. "Excuse my not offering it before."

"No, thank you," said Fosd.i.c.k.

"Don't smoke, eh? Won't you have one, Hunter?"

"No, thank you. Fosd.i.c.k is my guardian, and he don't allow it."

"So you're a good boy. Well, I wish you a pleasant evening," and Clifton sauntered out to find some other companion.

"He wouldn't believe I'd been a boot-black," said d.i.c.k, "even after I told him. I knew he wouldn't, or I wouldn't have said so. Is my hair parted straight?"