A part of the office is railed off, within which the superintendent1 has a desk, and receives orders for boys to be sent to different parts of the city. On benches in the back part of the office are sitting perhaps a dozen boys varying in age from fifteen to eighteen, clad in the well known blue uniform prescribed by the company. Each wears a cap on which may be read the initials of the company, with the boy’s number.
At the end of the benches sat a stout2, well made boy, apparently3 sixteen years of age. He had a warm, expressive4 face, and would generally be considered good looking.
On his cap we read this inscription5:
A. D. T.
91.
Some of the boys were smaller, two or three larger than Number 91. But among them all, he was the most attractive in appearance. The boys sat on the benches in patience waiting for a call from the superintendent.[6] They were usually selected in turn, but sometimes the fitness of a particular boy for the errand required was taken into consideration.
“Number 87!” called the superintendent.
A small boy of fifteen, but not looking over thirteen, left his seat and advanced to the desk.
“No, I don’t think you’ll do,” said the superintendent “There’s a man at the New England Hotel who wants a boy to go down with him to the Cortlandt Street Ferry, and carry his valise. A larger boy will be required.”
He glanced at the boys in waiting and called:
“Number 91!”
The boy of whom we have spoken rose with alacrity6, and stepped up to the desk. He had been sitting on the bench for an hour, and was glad of an opportunity to go out on an errand.
The superintendent wrote on a card the name “D. L. Meacham, New England Hotel,” and handed it to the boy.
“Go at once to the New England Hotel, and call for that gentleman,” he said. “If he is not in, wait for him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Paul Parton, for this was his name, did not need any further directions. He was perfectly7 acquainted with the city, especially in the lower part, where he had lived for years. He crossed Broadway, and, taking an easterly course, made his way to the Bowery, on which, at the corner of Bayard Street, the New England Hotel stands. This is a very respectable inn, and by its fair accommodations and moderate prices attracts a large number of patrons.
Entering, Paul advanced to the desk.
“Is Mr. D. L. Meacham in?” he asked, referring to the card given him by the superintendent.
“Here he is!” replied, not the clerk to whom the[7] question was addressed, but a tall, elderly man with gray hair, clad in a rusty8 suit, evidently a gentleman from the rural districts.
“Are you the telegraph boy?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“I want to go down to the ferry to take the train to Philadelphia.”
“All right, sir. Is this your valise?” asked Paul, pointing to a shabby traveling bag that might, from its appearance, have been used by Noah when he was on board the ark.
“Yes, that’s mine.”
“Do you want to start now, Mr. Meacham?”
“Well, I might as well. I hain’t got nothing to keep me here. How fur is it?”
“About a mile. Perhaps a little more.”
Paul took the valise in his hand, and went out of the hotel, followed by the old man.
“Do you know the way all round here, sonny?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, it beats me. I get turned round, and don’t know where I am. If it wasn’t for that, I could have gone to the ferry alone. But land’s sake! I might wander all round till tomorrow morning without finding it.”
“Then I guess it’s better to have a boy with you,” said Paul, laughingly.
“You look like a smart boy,” said the old man, attentively9 examining Number 91. “Do you like your business?”
“Pretty well,” answered Paul.
“Is the pay pretty good?”
“I get four dollars a week.”
“That’s more than I got when I was your age, sonny.”
“It doesn’t go very far in the city, when you have[8] your board and clothes to pay for,” replied the young telegraph messenger.
“That’s so. I didn’t think of that. I was reared on a farm, where they didn’t make much account of the victuals10 you ate.”
“We have to make account of it here, sir.”
“So you don’t have much left out of your four dollars?”
“No, sir; but I get rather more than four dollars. Sometimes the gentlemen I am working for give me a little extra for myself.”
“How much does that come to—in a week?”
“Well, sometimes I make a dollar or two extra. It depends a good deal on whether I fall in with liberal gentlemen or not. I don’t mean this as a hint, sir,” added Paul, smiling. “I am not entitled to anything extra, but, of course, when it is offered I take it.”
Paul had a motive11 in saying this. He abhorred12 the idea of seeming to beg for a gratuity13. Besides, judging from the appearance and rusty attire14 of the old man, he decided15 that he was poor, and could not afford to pay anything over the regular charges.
“I see,” said the old farmer, as Paul supposed him to be, with a responsive smile. “You’re right there, sonny. If you’re offered a little extra money, it’s all right to take it.”
By this time they had reached the City Hall Park, and were crossing it. Then, as now, the Park swarmed16 with bootblacks of all sizes, provided with the implements17 of their trade.
Frequently, in the rivalry18 which results from active competition, the little fellows are pushed aside, and the bigger and stronger boys take possession of the customers they have secured. There was a case of this sort which fell under the attention of Paul and his elderly companion.
[9]
A pale, delicate looking boy of twelve was signaled by a gentleman, a rod or two from the City Hall. He hastened eagerly to secure a job, but unhappily the signal had also been seen by a bigger boy, larger, if anything, than Paul, and he, too, ran to get in ahead of the smaller boy. Without ceremony, he put out his foot and tripped little Jack19, and with a triumphant20 laugh sped on to the expectant customer. The little boy, who had been bruised21 by the fall, rose crying and disappointed.
“That’s mean, Tom Rafferty,” he said. “The gentleman called me.”
Tom only responded by another laugh. With him, might made right, and the dominating law was the will of the stronger.
“Oh, you’ll get another soon,” he said.
He got down on his knees, and placed his box in position. But all was not to be as smooth sailing as he expected. Paul, with a blaze of honest indignation, had seen the outrage22. He was not surprised, for he knew both boys.
“Never mind, Jack,” he said. “I’ll fix it all right.
“Please mind the valise a minute, sir,” he added, and rather to the surprise of Mr. Meacham, he left him standing23 in the park, while he darted24 forward, seized Tom Rafferty by the collar, pulled him over backwards25, and called, “Now, Jack!”
The little boy, emboldened26 by this unexpected help, ran up, and took Tom’s place at the foot of the customer.
“I’m the boy you called, sir,” he said.
“That’s true, my boy. Go ahead! Only be quick!” said the gentleman.
Tom Rafferty was furious.
“Don’t you know any better, you overgrown bully27, than to get away little boys’ jobs?” asked Paul, indignantly.
[10]
“You mean if you can,” said the undaunted Paul.
“You think you’re a gentleman, just because you’re a telegraph boy. I could be a telegraph boy myself if I wanted ter.”
“Go ahead—I have no objection.”
“I’ll give that little kid the worst lickin’ he ever had, soon as he gets through, see ef I don’t.”
“Do it if you dare!” said Paul, his eyes flashing. “If you do, I’ll thrash you.”
“You dassn’t.”
“Remember what I say, Tom Rafferty. Now, Mr. Meacham, we’ll go on. I hope you’ll excuse me for keeping you waiting.”
“Yes, I will, sonny. It did me good to see you pitching into that young bully. I’d like to have done it myself.”
“I know both boys, sir. Little Jack is the son of a widow, who sews for a living, and she can’t make enough to support the family, and he has to go out and earn what he can by shines. He is small and weak, and the big boys impose upon him.”
“I’m glad he has some friends; Number 91, you’re a brave boy.”
“I don’t know about that, sir. But I can’t stand still and see a little kid like that imposed upon by a big brute29 like Tom Rafferty.”
They crossed Broadway, and presently neared Cortlandt Street. Just at the corner stood an old man, with bent30 form and white hair, dressed with extreme shabbiness. His hand was extended, and he was silently asking for alms.
Paul’s cheek flushed, and an expression of mortification31 swept over his face.
“Grandfather!” he said, reproachfully. “Please go home! Don’t beg in the streets. You make me ashamed!”
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1
superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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3
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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4
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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5
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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6
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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7
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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8
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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9
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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10
victuals
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| n.食物；食品 | |
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11
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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12
abhorred
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| v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 )；（厌恶地）回避；拒绝；淘汰 | |
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13
gratuity
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| n.赏钱，小费 | |
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14
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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15
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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16
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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17
implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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18
rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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19
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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20
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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21
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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22
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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23
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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24
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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25
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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26
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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28
mash
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| n.麦芽浆，糊状物，土豆泥；v.把…捣成糊状，挑逗，调情 | |
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29
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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30
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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31
mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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