Chapter II.
STARTING IN BUSINESS.
There was a look of delight on Ben’s face as he saw his companion examining their home so carefully, and each moment he expected to hear his exclamation of surprise at the very comfortable manner in which they lived. But since, after waiting some time, no such exclamation was heard, he asked, a trifle impatiently,
“Ain’t it a stunner?”
Now Paul did not really think the place merited any such praise. In fact, he was considerably disappointed, and he compromised the matter by saying,
“I should think it might be real kind o’ comfortable.”
“Kind o’ comfortable!” echoed Ben, angrily. “Well, I don’t know anything about Chicago, but if you know of any fellers there that have got any better place than this, I’d like to go out an’ stay two or three months with ’em.”
“Well, you see I don’t know much about it,” said Paul, conscious that he had hurt his kind-hearted friend’s feelings, and anxious to make amends in some way. “I’ve always lived in a regular house with father and mother, so I don’t know how boys do live that haven’t got any home.”
“You’ll see how they live before you get back to Chicago,” said Ben, grimly; and then he added, in a softened voice, “I’d like to see how it would seem to have a father an’ a mother, an’ a house to live in.”
“Didn’t you ever have any, Ben?”
“No,” and the boy’s voice trembled now in spite of himself; “I don’t s’pose I ever did. Me an’ Shiner have been livin’ round this way ever since we can remember, an’ I reckon we always lived so. We used to sleep ’round anywhere till Dickey Spry got a chance to run a stand over’n Jersey City, an’ then he sold us this place for fifty cents, an’ I tell you we’ve fatted right up ever since we had it.”
The conversation was taking such a sorrowful turn that Johnny’s entrance just then was very welcome. Paul stood very much in need of some cheerful company, to prevent the great lump that was growing in his throat from getting the best of him.
“Well, you are goin’ it strong!” exclaimed Johnny, as he closed the door, by pulling one portion of their house against the other. “Why this is ’bout as good as a ’lectric light, ain’t it? I tell you we shall be jest as snug as mice when winter comes, for this candle makes the place so warm.”
Johnny’s idea of the heat from one candle could not be a correct one, if he thought that their house would be as warm in January from it as it was then in August. But January was so far away that no one thought of starting an argument on the subject.
Ben brought forward the dainties he had bought, and although Shiner’s eyes did not stick out as far as he had said, there was enough of a pleasant surprise in his face to satisfy Ben for the outlay he had made.
“Now this is what I call livin’ high,” said Johnny, in a choking voice, as he tried to eat pea-nuts, bologna sausage, and crackers, all at the same time. “Seems like we’d had a reg’lar streak of luck ever since we bought this house, don’t it?”
“It was a good trade, that’s what it was, an’ it’s lucky for Polly that we had it, or he’d found out the difference in huntin’ round for a place to sleep.”
Poor Paul! he was doing his best to eat the portion of the feast that had been set aside as his, but, hungry as he had been, he found it difficult to swallow because of the lump in his throat, that kept growing larger and larger every moment, and which seemed to be doing its best to force the tears from his eyes.
He thought of his parents and his sister, who were probably going farther away from him each moment, grieving quite as much, if not more, because of his absence than he did himself; and when he realized that he might never see them again, the tears would roll from beneath his eyelids. But he brushed them away very quickly, as if ashamed to have his companions see them, honest though they were.
Then, as Ben and Johnny began to talk of their business, leaving him alone, as it seemed, the tears came faster and faster, until he could no longer wipe them away, and putting back into the paper the cracker he was trying to eat, he threw himself upon the straw, crying as if his heart would break.
Paul’s hosts seemed bewildered by such singular behavior on his part. They could not understand why a boy who had had the good-fortune to find such a place in which to sleep as they had just offered Paul should cry, and not understanding it, they did the very best thing for him—they let him cry, without trying to console him, though it sadly marred the happiness of their feast.
The tears were a relief to Paul in more ways than one, for before they were done flowing he was sound asleep, and he did not awake to a consciousness of his troubles until Ben shook him the following morning.
“It’s time to get up,” said the boy, in a kindly tone. “You see, Shiner has to get down about sunrise to buy his papers, an’ I go with him, so’s folks won’t be so likely to see us comin’ out of here.”
It was some moments before Paul realized where he was, or what had happened to so change his sleeping-room from the neat, cleanly one he called his own at home, to this very rude shelter. But when all that had occurred came back to his mind, he leaped to his feet at once, striking his head against the top of the hogshead with a force that told him he must be careful to get up no higher than his hands and knees.
“You’ll see now what a swell house we’ve got,” said Johnny, when they were outside, and while Paul was still rubbing the top of his head. “We’ve got runnin’ water near every room, jest like any place, an’ you can come in here an’ wash yer face with jest as much water as Astor can git.”
Johnny led the way to one corner of the building, where a water-pipe with a faucet jutted out from the brick-work, having evidently been placed there in case of fire, and turning the water on, the three boys scrubbed their faces and hands with the greatest vigor. But Paul found some difficulty in drying himself with straw as his companions did.
During this important ceremony the boys had been careful to screen themselves from the view of any one on the street by the boxes, which they had arranged beforehand. When they were as clean as the water would make them without soap, they started out of the yard at full speed, going over the fence as a rubber ball goes over any projection in its way.
Once on the street, where they were not afraid of any one seeing them, their movements were more leisurely, and they began to discuss plans for starting their guest in business.
But the discussion was not a long one, owing to the fact that but two avenues of trade were open to him—that of blackening boots or selling papers; and when he was called upon to decide, he chose the latter, very much to Johnny’s secret delight.
“Now, Ben,” said Johnny, who appeared to think it his duty to look out for his guest’s business education and welfare, “you’d better kinder lay ’round an’ see that the boys don’t try to come it on him the first day, an’ I’ll keep my eye on him too.”
Ben nodded assent, and Johnny said to Paul,
“You watch, an’ see how I do it, after I git the papers, an’ then you do jest as I do. If there is a big lot of news, it won’t be a great deal of work; but if there ain’t anything very ’portant, then you’ve got to holler.”
After this lesson had been given, and while they were walking towards the newspaper offices, Ben divided what bologna had been left from the feast of the previous evening, and also put in Paul’s pocket his share of the pea-nuts which he had not eaten with the others.
On account of finding an early customer who wanted his boots blackened, Ben did not go with them to get the papers, but promised to meet Paul on City Hall Square, where it had been decided he should make his first venture as newsboy.
Now the boys who sell the papers do not buy their stock in the business offices, as Paul had supposed, but are obliged to go into some room nearer the presses, and where they will be out of the way of more important customers. Therefore, when Johnny led him into a room lighted by gas, even though it was in the day-time, and filled by a crowd of noisy, pushing, eager boys, all wanting to be served first, Paul felt quite as much alarmed as surprised.
“It’s all right,” said Johnny, as he saw his companion was about to draw back; “there won’t anybody try to hurt you here, an’ you’ll git used to it after you’ve come two or three times.”
Paul hardly believed that he should become accustomed to anything of the kind; but before they had finished their rounds—for Johnny carried four of the different morning papers—he could look upon the scene, which was almost the same in each case, with something very nearly approaching interest.
When at last the stock was procured, Johnny divided it, giving half to Paul, and saying, as he did so,
“I’ll git all the papers for a while, till you kinder git used to it, an’ then you can git ’em for yerself. Now come over here on the Square an’ sing out, as loud as you know how, jest what I do.”
Then, for example, Johnny began shouting his wares in a way that was more noisy than distinct. But after he had repeated it several times, selling two papers in the meanwhile, Paul had no more idea of what he said than if he had been speaking in a foreign tongue.
Johnny would have lost a good deal of the morning trade, which was quite brisk, in his efforts to start Paul aright, if Ben had not come along, and offered to give the beginner his first lesson.
Paul found it rather difficult to make as much noise as Ben seemed to think necessary, for the sound of his own voice frightened him; but in the course of an hour, during which time his instructor alternately blackened boots and gave him lessons, he had got along so well that he was selling quite a number of papers. His success did a great deal towards helping him fight off the homesick feeling that would come over him.
At first none of the other newsboys paid any attention to him, perhaps because they were too busy; but as trade began to grow dull they commenced to gather around Paul, until he was thoroughly alarmed at some of the demonstrations they made.
One boy, considerably larger than he was, insisted that if he wanted to sell papers he should go somewhere else to do it, because that particular portion of the city was under the immediate control of himself and his friends. Paul made no reply, for the very good reason that he did not know but that the claim which this boy set up was a just one, and he remained silent, which caused his tormentors to think—exactly what was the true state of the case—that he was afraid of them.
One boy, the same who had first spoken, began pushing him aside, and poor Paul, seeing at least a dozen boys, nearly all of them larger than he was, standing in threatening attitudes, looked around in vain for his two friends, who had promised to care for him.
“You want to get out of this, young feller, an’ you don’t want to show your nose ’round here agin,” said the largest member of the party, as he pushed Paul rudely aside with one hand, and with the other attempted to take his papers from him.
It was this, more than anything else, which made Paul resist; for even if he had no right on that particular spot, they surely had no right to take his papers from him; and besides, they were Johnny’s property, not his. Therefore he felt he should defend them all the more strongly.
“IF YOU PICK ANY ROW WITH HIM, YOU PICK IT WITH ME AND JOHNNY.”
He was trying to call up all his strength and will in defence of his own rights, even though he knew the struggle could not be a long one, owing to the numbers that were opposed to him, when suddenly the crowd were pressed apart at one side, and Ben and Johnny stood ready to defend their guest.
“This feller lives with us,” said Ben, defiantly, as he looked fiercely at the boy who had been trying to rob Paul, “an’ he’s goin’ to sell papers here every day. Now don’t any of you forget that if you pick any row with him, you pick it with me an’ Johnny.”
More than one of those present knew just what Ben could do if he should swing that box around in defence of any one who was being imposed upon, and they concluded that it was not best to discuss the matter any further. The crowd fell back, and Paul was safe, for a short time, at least.
Johnny had sold all his own stock out, and taking half of Paul’s, the two commenced business again. They had no further trouble from those who had been so eager to drive the new boy away, and by dinner-time all the papers were sold. But Paul was ignorant that in every one was an advertisement setting forth an exact description of himself, together with the promise of a large reward to the person who would take him to his father at police head-quarters.