Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 655 — page 5: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

— wharf. First chop. Just the stu sales.” i talked as if he had been ten years in the trade. ‘‘ Apples, eh? How’s our stock, Jones?” ** Low,” answered the man addressed. ** What are they?” ‘* Newtown pippins. All sound and prime. The first of that sata in the market,” ‘That's so. I haven’t seen any.” Roger’s apples went up fifty cents in price at that an- swer. ‘‘ What do you want for them?” ‘* Six-fifty a barrel.” ‘* Nonsense. They are not worth more than five at the utmost.” . ‘They are not nubbins,” answered Roger, with a show of indignation. ‘‘I1 can get six from fifty men. Therehave been no such apples in the market yet. Say six, and they are yours,” ‘* See here, boy, you’re a sharp dealer for one of yourage. It’s a bargain, if the apples turn out as you say.” ‘* Tf they don’t it’s no sale,” answered Roger, confidently. In an hour afterward the apples were in the store. Our youthful merchant waited with some anxiety for the inspection of the fruit. It was not impossible that the waterman had seen him by the post, and got up this conversation as a guy tocheat him. He well knew, as Mr. Bur- naud had said, that the great city was full of sharpers. It was, therefore, with genuine relief that he saw the first barrel opened, and beheld its con- tents to be large, round, ripe fruit, that looked juicy and luscious. ‘‘T told you they were A 1,” he remarked, confidently. ‘‘ Why they’re not bad, that’s a fact.” The second barrel opened out as well. ‘¢ Come back to the office.” Roger walked back with as independent an air as if he ownedthe store, though his heart was beating high with excitement, In a few minutes he had twelve dollars, in crisp new bills, in his pocket, in exchange for his apples. ‘Call on me if you have any more goods to sell,” said Mr. Clark. ‘‘Thank you. I won’t forget,” answered Roger, politely, as he left the store. But though the boy’s face was quiet his heart was full of joy and hope: He had not been three hours at work and had already made four-and- a-half dollars profit on his capital. He felt at that moment that he was on the high road to fortune. ‘The day is young yet,” said Roger, looking around. ‘*I don’t suppose I'll find any more angels like them, but I can’t afford to let the grass grow under my feet. Ten hours is a day’s workin my almanac.” When he went home that night he had man- aged to add fifty cents more to his capital. He was five dollars richer than when he set out to make his fortune. CHAPTER IV. NEW LINES OF TRADE, ROGER kept his first day’s success to himself. He did not wish to raise false expectations. He very wel) knew that it might be followed by failure, It was no pathway of roses that lay before him, but a track paved with thorns, and it was not every one that could travel it in safety. ‘““T didn’t do bad, mother,” he admitted, ‘But I won’t brag. Wait till [ve tried it a week, and then we'll see what's in it.” He was out bright and early the next morn- ing. All day long he traversed the wharves aud the streets, wide awake for chances, yet when night came on he had put but twenty cents in bis pocket, ten for holding a _gentle- man’s horse, and ten for carrying an old lady’s for your parcel. He felt decidedly blue as he made his way slowly home. ‘“‘ Lucky I didn’t brag last night,” he said to himself, ‘‘or | might have to back water to- night. But it isn’t all Jost that’s in danger. I’ve seen plenty of Chances when I had no capi- tal. Keep up a good heart, Roger. The world’s young yet.” He paused. A personage before bim was in trouble. It was an itinerant street merchant, who had stumbled and upset his kit of goods. They seemed to be composed of imitation jew- elry. and had rolled far and wide. “Hold your own, my hearty!” cried Roger, Plucky Paul, th *T have two barrels of prime apples at the ascii, & ‘* Away goes our stock in trade. Come, help you pick them up!” He set briskly to work, gathering the bits of shining glass and imitation gold and gems, which glittered in the hght of the street lamp. The unlucky peddler did the same thing, but with a sharp eye on his volunteerassistant. He wanted to be sure that none of his ten-cent dia- monds went into the boy’s pockets. But Roger had not a thought of dishonesty. He was not out on the world to make his for- tune by theft. ‘‘There you are,” he said, cheerily, as he poured his findings into the tray. ‘‘I guess that’s all. Look out sharper for your toes next time. ‘* Much obliged,” answered the peddler, grate- fully. ‘‘ You’re asquare young hoss. I calcu- late I owe you something for your trouble.” He took a piece of silver from his pocket and pressed it on Roger. ‘¢T won't take it,” declared the latter. ‘* You don’t make enough to afford to give away your profits.” ‘* Don’t 1?’ said the man, laughing. ‘‘That’s more than you know about it. There’s a big profit in these things, my boy. Why, I’ve made three dollars clear to-day.’ ‘‘Three dollars!’ echoed Roger, opening his eyes wide. ‘‘ Hope you don’t think we walk round sellin things forfun? Notmuch! There’s one chap know, who sells toilet soaps, that thinks nothing of five dollars a day. He’s a good talker, of course. I don’t mind telling you this, my boy, as long as you helped me. Are you in any business?” ‘ ‘‘T’m open for any paying line,” answered Roger. ‘*Come along, then. I rather like you, and will let you into a secret or two.” He led the way, busily talking. By the time they had advanced four or five blocks Roger had learned a good many things of which he had not dreamed before, If he had not put much in his pocket that day, he had put something in his head, and he felt that his day’s profits were quite up to those of the day before. For the next two days the young merchant put into effect the lessons he had learned. He had been taught where to get his goods, and how to handle them, and he proved an apt scholar. The first day he handled soap. The next day he took out a patent window-fastener, that paid a heavy profit. At the end of the second day he found that he had added eight dollars to his capital. But this money had not been earned without active industry andan immense amount of talk. ‘*] wouldn’t want to keep that up long,” the boy said to himself. ‘‘It pays, but it is wear- ing. Just wait till I get some cash ahead, and see if I don’t go into something bigger.” More than a week passed before SNir. Burnaud showed himself again at the home of the Wil- tons. It was morning. Roger was sitting with his hat in his hand, on the point of going out. Mr. Burnaud looked at him with a quizzical smile, ‘** How now, Roger?” he remarked pleasantly. ‘* Are you ready to give up your wild ways and come into the store? I want a boy of your size, and am holding the place open.” ‘* We ought to be forever obliged to you!” ex- claimed Mrs. Wilton. ‘* Of course he will come, sir. It is ridiculous for him to think of any- thing else.” ) ‘Not just yet, mother. Mr. Burnaud didn’t say he was in any hurry. I’m very much obliged, ’'m sure, but it’s too slow a way to work out what I owe him at a store boy’s wages.” ) ae ‘“Mercy! You haven’t lost the money?” ‘He will have to work it out yet,” said the merchant, with a sly wink. ‘‘ Let him have his swing, I will keep the place open.” Roger grew red in the face. He thrust his arg in his pocket and drew out a ten-dollar ‘Here it is, Mr. Bernaud. I thank you ever 80 muchfor the loan. But I don’t need it any longer.” ‘“Come, come, Roger; you are not angry, I hope. Iwas only joking. ‘I'd like to pay you back what you’ve been so kind as to Jend my mother,” continued the boy, stolidly, ‘‘ But I hope you will wait a lit- Ge oom until I get something ahead.” “Why, you young jackanapes! what are you driving at? You don’t want to hint that you’ve got a capital of yourown already?” ‘*T have madea little,” answered Roger, mod- e Boy Speculator. | 5 estly. ‘‘ ve had your money for a whole week, Mr. Bernaud, and I haven’t spent that time counting my fingérs.”’ He drew some more money from his pocket and spread it out before the eyes of the mer- chant- ‘* Twenty dollars! whew!” gave a long whistle, ‘*Twenty dollars? You don’t mean to say that my Roger has made twenty dollars in a week? And the ungrateful fellow has never told me a word of it!’ The happy mother flung her arms around her son’s neck, and kissed him fondly. ‘* But what have you been doing, my good fel- low?’ asked Mr Burraud. ‘** You have not been operating in Wall street?” ‘‘T have been working,” answered Roger, quietly. ‘‘If you care to hear [ll tell you all about it.” Very briefly and modestly he told the story of his week’s labony from the apple episode to the peddling. ‘* You'll do,” exclaimed Mr. Bernaud, clep- ing him heartily on the shoulder. ‘‘See here Loger, that place in my store is closed. I will hire another boy to-day.” ‘*Oh, Mr. Burnaud, it hope you won’t!” cried the widow. ‘‘ Roger will never gét along at what heisat. now. I’d much rather he would be at something regular.” ‘* Well, weil, Roger, it rests with you. What do you say?” ‘Can I sell you a half-dozen of fine shirts?” asked Roger, with a queer smile. ‘‘ I can offer you a splendid article, twenty-thread-fine Irish inen, triple bosom, well made, and the lowest figure in the market. I’ve got inside trade fig- ures, and can put them to you low.” ‘** Shirts} e deuce! What are you at now ?” ‘*T made a contract last night with Greg & Sons. Want to put out not less than two dozen to-morrow. Shall 1 book your order for a half- dozen?” Mr. Burnaud burst into a hearty laugh. He seemed highly tickled at Roger’s business-like tone. ‘‘T never buy a pig in a bag,” he answered, gravely. ‘‘Show me your samples, give me your figures, and then we will talk.” The gentleman_ ‘‘That’s business. I will see you early to-- morrow,” answered Rogér, making a note in his memorandum - book. “‘ There’s money in those shirts, Mr. Burnaud. I don’t mind tellin you that. And they'll go like hot cakes. Jus you see if I don’t swing them off lively.” : Roger meantbusiness. Before ten o’clock the next morning he was in Mr. Burnaud’s store, with his samples of fine dress shirts neatly done up in a linen case, which he had but to throw open to display his goods. The merchant met him gravely, and with the air of a stranger. ‘* Well, young man, do you wish to see me this morning?” : ‘‘'Yes, sir,” answered ‘Roger, at once takin hiscue. ‘If you have ten minutes ‘to spare, would like to show you something nice. You’lt find you haven't wasted your time.”’ He began to open his parcel. ‘‘What! You’reanother of those confounded peddlers, that take up half my time? Come, - come, I have no spare minutes to waste on that. I am not on the buy.” ‘But just look. I don’task you toe buy. But I know it will do you good to see my samples.” ‘*T don’t want tosee your goods, Isee oceans of goods every day. ome. pack, young man; I haven’t time to listen to you.” ‘Ts business brisk just now, Mr. Burnaud?? — asked Roger, subsiding into a chair, “No. Itig ptr nem, Tes dull.” Mr. Burnaud was watching the boy curiously from the corner of his eye. Roger seemed to quite forget bis object in en~ tering the store. He talked quite glibly for ten minutes on other subjects. Then he got up as if to leave. : ‘“ You’ve got something to sell?” 7 ‘Yes, But I don’t wish to annoy you,” “Tet me see it, anyhow, That will do no * harm.” ‘ In a minute Roger had his case open, and was displaying his samples. ; ‘“ Did you ever see a finer piece of Irish linen than that? And see here! k how they are made.” Ten minutes more talk, in which Mr. Burnaud made all sorts of objections, which Roger skill- fully parried, with a quickness and wit that sé~ eretly delighted the merchant. 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