Part 44 (2/2)
”Maybe you kin give me a job?” went on the bootblack, suddenly, and he turned his blue eyes up in expectancy.
”Hardly,” laughed Ralph. ”I am looking for work myself.”
”Dat's too bad. Do yer belong in New York?”
”No; I just arrived this morning.”
”Ain't yer got no pull?”
”Pull? What do you mean?”
”No friend ter give yer a lift?”
”I have a friend, yes.”
”Is he rich?”
”Yes.”
”Den it's all right. But if yer didn't have no pull I would advise yer to go back home. A feller widout a pull in New York can't do nuthin' nohow,”
and the bootblack gave an extra dash with his brush to emphasize his remarks.
”I haven't been able to see my friend yet. He is out of town.”
”Say, maybe yer kin put in a word fer me.”
”What is your name?”
”Mickety.”
”Mickety? Mickety what?”
”Me udder name is Powers, but da all calls me just Mickety.”
”And where do you live, Mickety?”
”Over in Cherry street, wid me old gran'mudder. She can't work, an' I have ter keep t'ings goin'.”
”You have to support her, you mean?”
”Dat's it. She's most blind, Gran'ma Sal is.”
”It's a good deal on your shoulders,” said Ralph, and his respect for the dirty little chap before him increased.
”Dat's why I want ter strike anudder job.”
”Well, if I hear of any opening, I'll let you know. Where can I see you?”
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