Randy of the River; Or, The Adventures of a Young Deckhand

by Jr. Horatio Alger

"That smells good," he said, with a smile, as he kissed his wife. "I like fish."

"Randy just caught them."

"Good enough."

"You look tired, Louis," went on Mrs. Thompson. "Was the work extra hard?"

"Not much harder than usual, Lucy, but I was working on a cellar partition and it was very damp. It brought back a bit of the rheumatism."

"That is too bad."

"Can't the boss give you something else to do—something where it isn't damp?" questioned Randy.

"I have asked him about it," answered his father. "But just at present there is nothing else in sight."

"You must take care, Louis," said Mrs. Thompson. "It will not do to risk having the rheumatism come back."

"I wish I could get something to do," said Randy, while the evening meal was in progress. "I might earn some money and it would help. But there doesn't seem to be any kind of an opening in Riverport."