"I'm goin' to give it a twenty-five cent shine," he said.
Just then a knock was heard at the chamber-door.
"Come in!" said Dick, 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 Dick. "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 Dick; "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 apprenticeship at it."
"So I have," answered Dick. "Didn't you ever see me when I blacked boots on Chatham Square?"