Part 6 (2/2)

CHAPTER IV.

LIFE AT THE BOARDING-HOUSE.

d.i.c.k found his new quarters in Bleecker Street very comfortable. His room was kept in neat order, which was more than could be said of his former home in Mott Street. There once a fortnight was thought sufficient to change the sheets, while both boys were expected to use the same towel, and make that last a week. Indeed, Mrs. Mooney would have considered the boys ”mighty particular” if they had objected to such an arrangement. Mrs. Browning, fortunately, was very different, and d.i.c.k found nothing to complain of either in his chamber or in the board which was furnished.

d.i.c.k had felt rather awkward on his first appearance at the table, but he was beginning to feel more at his ease. It was rather remarkable, considering his past life, how readily he adapted himself to an experience so different. He left the store at five o'clock, and got to his boarding-house in time to get ready for dinner. d.i.c.k had now got to be quite particular about his appearance. He washed his face and hands thoroughly, and brushed his hair carefully, before appearing at the table.

Miss Peyton, the lively young lady who has already been mentioned in the first chapter, sat near the boys, and evidently was quite prepossessed in their favor. Both had bright and attractive faces, though d.i.c.k would undoubtedly be considered the handsomest. He had a fresh color which spoke of good health, and was well-formed and strong. Henry Fosd.i.c.k was more delicate in appearance; his face was thinner, and rather pale. It was clear that he was not as well able to fight his way through life as d.i.c.k. But there was something pleasant and attractive in his quiet sedateness, as well as in the frank honesty and humor that could be read in the glance of our friend d.i.c.k.

”Won't you and your friend stop a little while and sing?” asked Miss Peyton, addressing Henry Fosd.i.c.k on the evening of the second day of d.i.c.k's business career.

Fosd.i.c.k hesitated.

”My friend has an engagement this evening,” he said.

”I suppose I may not ask where,” said she.

”I am invited to spend the evening with some friends on Madison Avenue,”

said d.i.c.k.

”Indeed?” said Miss Peyton, surprised. ”I wasn't aware you had such fas.h.i.+onable friends, or I couldn't have expected to retain you.”

”All my friends are not as fas.h.i.+onable,” said d.i.c.k, wondering what the young lady would say if she could see his late fellow-lodgers at Mrs.

Mooney's, on Mott Street.

”If I can't hope to keep you this evening, you must promise to stay awhile to-morrow evening. I hope to have the pleasure of hearing you sing, Mr. Hunter.”

”When I give a concert,” said d.i.c.k, ”I'll be sure to let you in gratooitous.”

”Thank you,” said Miss Peyton. ”I shall remind you of it. I hope that time will come very soon.”

”Just as soon as I can engage the Academy of Music on reasonable terms.”

”You'd better try first in the parlor here. We'll take up a contribution, to pay you for your exertions.”

”Thank you,” said d.i.c.k. ”You're very kind, as the man said to the judge when he asked him when it would be perfectly agreeable for him to be hung.”

Miss Peyton laughed at this remark, and d.i.c.k went upstairs to get ready for his visit to Madison Avenue.

Our hero felt a little bashful about this visit. He was afraid that he would do or say something that was improper, or that something would slip out which would betray his vagabond life of the streets.

”I wish you was going with me, Fosd.i.c.k,” he said.

”You'll get along well enough alone, d.i.c.k. Don't be afraid.”

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