“Some days I get considerable.”
“How much do you make?”
“Pleasant days I makes a dollar, but when it rains, there ain't much to do.”
“How much do you have to pay for sleeping?”
“Six cents.”
“Six cents!” repeated Herbert, in surprise. “Where can you get lodged for that?”
“At the lodgin' house, corner of Fulton and Nassau Streets.”
“Well,” thought Herbert, “I needn't starve. If I can't get anything better to do, I can buy a box of blacking and a brush, and set up in business for myself.”
To be sure, this would not be an agreeable occupation, but Herbert was bound to make a living by honest labor. If one avenue was closed to him, he must enter such as were open to him. He could not afford to be particular.
After his shoes were brushed, he crossed the park, and walked up Broadway. It was a wonderful sight to the country-bred boy, this gay thoroughfare, with its busy and bustling crowds, and its throngs of vehicles, never ceasing wholly, save at the dead hours of night. He thought to himself what a quantity of business there must be to do. Certainly, there must be room for one more worker. So, on the whole, the busy scene gave him courage, and he sauntered along as cheerfully as if he were not next-door to a beggar.