CHAPTER XII
DICK BECOMES A TEACHER
For several days Dick and Jimmy did well as partners in the newspaper business. There happened to be considerable news, and there was a good demand for papers. Consequently the boys sold a large number and their earnings were considerable.
"Crimps! But we'll be millionaires if dis keeps on," remarked Jimmy one night, when they were in their room counting up their cash.
"Hardly that," replied Dick, "but we have enough for our next week's room rent, sufficient to live on and three dollars besides. I think we had better open a bank account with that."
"A bank account?"
"Yes; why not? Frank Merton told me about the Dime Savings Bank, where he puts his money."
On Frank's return from Brooklyn he had renewed his acquaintance with Dick, and the two boys had taken quite a liking to one another.
"Well, youse is de treasurer of dis firm," replied Jimmy. "If youse t'inks a bank account is de proper t'ing, why, go ahead an' open it. I guess I kin stand it if youse kin."
"It will be a good thing in case we have bad luck. We'll have something to fall back on for our room rent."
"All right, sport," exclaimed Jimmy, who occasionally did not use Dick's name in speaking to him, calling him whatever he happened to think of in the way of street slang. "Go ahead, cully. I'm game."
So the next day Dick opened a bank account in his name, as Jimmy could not sign the book, a fact of which the newsboy was not at all ashamed. Nor could he read more than the titles of the different papers he carried, and these were distinguished by him more by the different kinds of type than by the difference in letters.
Dick's fear about poor business was justified. A heavy rain storm took place that afternoon, just at the time when the extras came out. It seemed as if every one got in out of the wet, and there were few persons on the street to buy papers. The rain kept up until long after dark, and the two partners, who had to go out rain or shine, found they had not sold ten papers between them.
"Dis is de time we're up ag'inst it," remarked Jimmy rather dismally as they took back to the newspaper offices the unsold copies and started for their room.
"Well, we can't always expect to do as good business as we did at first. Anyhow, we don't have to worry about our room rent nor our supper. To-morrow we'll probably do better."
"Let's take in a show," proposed Jimmy. "I feel sort of low in me mind, an' a good show'll cheer me up."
"Do you think we can afford it? We haven't made our expenses to-day, and I don't believe we should waste any money on a show. We ought to wait until we have had better luck. Of course half the money is yours, and you can do as you please. Only I'm not going to spend any of mine on a show. Besides, we saw one this week."
"Well, maybe I'd better stay home den," agreed Jimmy with a sigh. "Anyhow, I've got some cigarettes an' I'll have a smoke."
"Jimmy," said Dick with a sudden resolve, "I wish you'd do me a favor."
"Sure. What is it?"
"Don't be so quick to promise until you hear what it is. Perhaps you'll not want to do it."
"Why, I'd do anyt'ing fer youse, Dick."
"Will you give up smoking?"
"What's dat?" asked Jimmy suddenly, pausing in the act of lighting his cigarette.
"I wish you would stop smoking. It can't do you any good, and I'm sure it must do you harm."
"Stop smokin'? Say, I—I don't believe I kin. Honest I don't. Seems like whenever I feel bad a cigarette makes me feel fine."
"That's just the trouble. You will get to depend on them to make you feel good, and you'll have to keep on smoking more and more as you grow older."
"Aw, what's de harm? All de kids does it, an' look at de men."
"I know plenty of them do, but I don't believe any of them can say it benefits them. I read in the paper the other day that a doctor said it was very injurious for boys to smoke. I saved the article. You ought to read it."
"Huh! I can't read me own name."
"Oh, excuse me. I didn't mean to make you feel bad," spoke Dick quickly. "I forgot you couldn't read."
"Dat's all right, cully. Me feelin's ain't hurted."
"Would you like to read?" asked Dick as an idea came to him.
"Say, would I? Betcherlife I would. But I don't s'pose I ever kin learn."
"I don't see why not."
"How could I? Who'd teach a newsie like me t' read?"
"I would, Jimmy, if you wanted me to."
"No kiddin'?"
"No 'kidding,' as you call it. I would like to very much."
"Does ye t'ink I kin learn?"
"I don't see why not. You are bright and quick, and you have a good memory, for you know where almost every street in New York is located."
"Oh, dat's easy; but dem letters—every one looks so much alike dat I never kin tell 'em apart."
"Oh, they are all different, as I can soon show you. Will you try?"
"Sure I will. Crimps! But t'ink of me learnin' t' read!"
"And why don't you include writing while you're about it?" asked Dick with a smile.
"Writin'? Say, if I lived t' be a hundred years old I might learn t' scribble me own name, but dat's all."
"Oh, no. I am sure you could learn to read and write. If you like I will teach you both."
"Start in den!" exclaimed Jimmy with the air of a martyr. "De sooner de quicker. Say, tell ye what I'll do," he added as he put back in the box the cigarette he had not lighted. "If youse kin teach me t' read an' write I'll—I'll stop smokin'."
"Really?" asked Dick, much delighted.
"Sure. I guess I kin, but I'd like a cigarette awful jest now. Maybe if I smoke one now I kin quit easier."
"If you are going to stop, you might as well stop at once," said Dick firmly, for he wanted to reform his partner if he could.
"All right," agreed Jimmy with a sigh, and he put the box of cigarettes back in his pocket.
"What are you going to do with them?" asked Dick.
"I'll give 'em t' Dutchy. He smokes."
"Throw them away. It isn't good for Sam to smoke, and you shouldn't give him the chance."
This proposition was almost too much for Jimmy, used as he was to the life of the streets, but he had started on a new line of conduct and, at least for a time, he was going to follow it.
He hesitated a moment, and then, with something like a sigh of regret, he went to the window of the room and tossed the box out into the air court. The cigarettes fell to the pavement below, where the rain soon spoiled them.
"Now for the first lesson," said Dick. "We'll begin on the letters," and finding in an old newspaper an advertisement where the print was large, he began to teach Jimmy the rudiments of reading.
"We'll begin on the letters," said Dick. Page 92
The newsboy was eager to learn, and as Dick was an enthusiastic teacher, the lesson went on surprisingly well. It was nearly midnight before they stopped, so quickly did the time pass.
"How do you like it?" asked Dick as they got ready for bed.
"It's—it's kinder queer," replied Jimmy. "I can't seem to remember whether de cross piece of de letter T is on de top or on de bottom, an' I've clean forgot which is knocked flat on de side—de D or de O."
"Oh, you'll soon remember all that. Don't be discouraged. It will come in time," said Dick encouragingly; and then the two newsboy partners said good-night and crawled between the blankets.