The Telegraph Boy Part 24

"That shows you don't know me, d.i.c.k. I shall be glad to notice you whenever we meet."

"I don't see why I can't be in luck too," said d.i.c.k. "I wish I could find some rich lady to give me a room in her house."

"You'll have to get some new clothes first, d.i.c.k."

"I know I aint got a genteel look," said d.i.c.k, surveying his well-worn clothes, soiled and ragged; "but it wouldn't be no use if I was to dress in velvet."

"Unless you kept your face clean," suggested Frank.

"A feller can't be washin' his face all the time," said d.i.c.k.

"It's the fashion to have a clean face in good society," said Frank, smiling.

"It must be a good deal of trouble," said d.i.c.k. "Is my face very dirty?"

"Not very. There's a black spot on each cheek, and one on the side of your nose, and your chin looks a little shady."

"A feller can't keep very clean in my business."

"I suppose it is rather hard," Frank admitted; "but you won't be a boot-black always, I hope."

"I'd just as lieves give it up for bankin', or cashier of a savings-bank," said d.i.c.k. "Them's light, genteel kinds of business, and don't dirty the hands."

"Well, d.i.c.k, if I hear of an opening in either line I'll let you know.

Now I must go and buy a trunk."

"I never expect to get as far as a trunk," said d.i.c.k. "I shall feel like a gentleman when I can set up one. It wouldn't be no use to me now. I'd have to stuff it with rocks to make a show."

"Poor d.i.c.k!" thought Frank as he left his friend. "He takes the world too easy. He hasn't any ambition, or he wouldn't be content to keep on blacking boots when there are so many better ways of making a living. If I ever get a chance to give him a lift I will. He aint much to look at, but he's a good-hearted boy, and would put himself to a good deal of trouble to do me a favor."

It was not much trouble to pack his trunk. Indeed, he had scarcely enough clothing to fill it one-third full.

"I may have to adopt d.i.c.k's plan, and fill it with rocks," said Frank to himself. "Some day I shall be better supplied. I can't expect to get on too fast."

The room a.s.signed to Frank was a small one; but it was neatly furnished, and provided with a closet. The bed, with its clean white spread, looked very tempting, and Frank enjoyed the prospect of the privacy he would have in a room devoted to his sole use. At the lodging-house, though his bed was comfortable, there were sixty to eighty boys who slept in the same room, and of course he had no more rights than any other.

"I hope you like your room, Frank," said Mrs. Vivian.

"It is the best I ever had," he replied.

"How early are you obliged to be on duty?" she asked.

"At eight o'clock."

"I do not breakfast till that hour; but I will direct the cook to have a cup of coffee and some breakfast ready for you at seven."

"Am I to take my meals here?" asked Frank, in surprise.

"Certainly. Did you think I was going to send you out to a restaurant?"

inquired Mrs. Vivian, smiling.

"I am very much obliged to you; but I am afraid it will inconvenience the cook to get me an early breakfast."

"I am glad to see you so considerate of others. I can answer for Mary, however, who is very obliging. You can get lunch outside, as I suppose it will be inconvenient for you to leave your duties to come so far as Thirty-eighth street."

"You are very kind to me, Mrs. Vivian," said Frank, gratefully.

"I shall claim an occasional service of you in return," said Mrs.

Vivian.

"I hope you will," said Frank, promptly.

Two days after he had taken up his residence in his new quarters Frank was called upon to render a very agreeable service.

"I have two tickets for Wallack's theatre for this evening," said Mrs.

Vivian. "Will it be agreeable for you to accompany me?"

"I should like it very much."

"Then you shall be my escort. When Fred is at home he goes with me; but now I must depend on you. Have you a pair of kid gloves?"

Frank was obliged to confess that he had not. In fact he had never owned a pair in his life.

"I will give you a pair of mine. Probably there is little difference in the size of our hands."

This proved to be true.

Somehow Frank in his new life seemed always running across Victor Dupont. That young gentleman and his sister sat in the row behind Mrs.

Vivian and her youthful escort, but did not immediately become aware of it.

"Why, Victor," said his sister, who had been looking about her, "there is Mrs. Vivian in the next row. Who is that nice-looking boy with her?

It can't be Fred, for he is larger."

Victor turned his glance in the direction of Mrs. Vivian. His surprise and disgust were about equal when he saw the country-boy he had looked down upon, faultlessly attired, with neat-fitting gloves, and a rose in his b.u.t.ton-hole and looking like a gentleman.

"I never saw such cheek!" he exclaimed, in disgust.

"What do you mean, Victor?" asked his sister, looking puzzled.

"Do you want to know who that boy is with Mrs. Vivian?"

"Yes; he is very nice-looking."

"Then you can marry him if you like. That boy is a telegraph messenger.

I used to know him in the country. A few weeks ago he was selling papers in front of the Astor House."

"You don't say so!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Flora Dupont, "Aren't you mistaken?"

"I guess not. I know him as well as I know you."