Part 13 (1/2)
”Yes,” said d.i.c.k; ”but I give it up after a while.”
”What for?”
”Well, they didn't always put news enough in their papers, and people wouldn't buy 'em as fast as I wanted 'em to. So one mornin'
I was stuck on a lot of Heralds, and I thought I'd make a sensation.
So I called out 'GREAT NEWS! QUEEN VICTORIA a.s.sa.s.sINATED!' All my Heralds went off like hot cakes, and I went off, too, but one of the gentlemen what got sold remembered me, and said he'd have me took up, and that's what made me change my business.”
”That wasn't right, d.i.c.k,” said Frank.
”I know it,” said d.i.c.k; ”but lots of boys does it.”
”That don't make it any better.”
”No,” said d.i.c.k, ”I was sort of ashamed at the time, 'specially about one poor old gentleman,--a Englishman he was. He couldn't help cryin' to think the queen was dead, and his hands shook when he handed me the money for the paper.”
”What did you do next?”
”I went into the match business,” said d.i.c.k; ”but it was small sales and small profits. Most of the people I called on had just laid in a stock, and didn't want to buy. So one cold night, when I hadn't money enough to pay for a lodgin', I burned the last of my matches to keep me from freezin'. But it cost too much to get warm that way, and I couldn't keep it up.”
”You've seen hard times, d.i.c.k,” said Frank, compa.s.sionately.
”Yes,” said d.i.c.k, ”I've knowed what it was to be hungry and cold, with nothin' to eat or to warm me; but there's one thing I never could do,” he added, proudly.
”What's that?”
”I never stole,” said d.i.c.k. ”It's mean and I wouldn't do it.”
”Were you ever tempted to?”
”Lots of times. Once I had been goin' round all day, and hadn't sold any matches, except three cents' worth early in the mornin'. With that I bought an apple, thinkin' I should get some more bimeby. When evenin' come I was awful hungry. I went into a baker's just to look at the bread. It made me feel kind o' good just to look at the bread and cakes, and I thought maybe they would give me some. I asked 'em wouldn't they give me a loaf, and take their pay in matches. But they said they'd got enough matches to last three months; so there wasn't any chance for a trade. While I was standin' at the stove warmin' me, the baker went into a back room, and I felt so hungry I thought I would take just one loaf, and go off with it. There was such a big pile I don't think he'd have known it.”
”But you didn't do it?”
”No, I didn't and I was glad of it, for when the man came in ag'in, he said he wanted some one to carry some cake to a lady in St.
Mark's Place. His boy was sick, and he hadn't no one to send; so he told me he'd give me ten cents if I would go. My business wasn't very pressin' just then, so I went, and when I come back, I took my pay in bread and cakes. Didn't they taste good, though?”
”So you didn't stay long in the match business, d.i.c.k?”
”No, I couldn't sell enough to make it pay. Then there was some folks that wanted me to sell cheaper to them; so I couldn't make any profit. There was one old lady--she was rich, too, for she lived in a big brick house--beat me down so, that I didn't make no profit at all; but she wouldn't buy without, and I hadn't sold none that day; so I let her have them. I don't see why rich folks should be so hard upon a poor boy that wants to make a livin'.”
”There's a good deal of meanness in the world, I'm afraid, d.i.c.k.”
”If everybody was like you and your uncle,” said d.i.c.k, ”there would be some chance for poor people. If I was rich I'd try to help 'em along.”
”Perhaps you will be rich sometime, d.i.c.k.”
d.i.c.k shook his head.
”I'm afraid all my wallets will be like this,” said d.i.c.k, indicating the one he had received from the dropper, ”and will be full of papers what aint of no use to anybody except the owner.”