Rough and Ready. Alger Horatio Jr.

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      "You won't be till you're a little smarter than you are now. What are you going to do?"

      "I dunno," said Johnny. "I wish Mr. Taylor was in this city."

      "What for?"

      "He used to give me money most every day," said Johnny.

      "I don't want anybody to give me money," said Rough and Ready, independently. "I can earn my own living."

      "I could get a place to tend a paper-stand, if I had good clo'es," said Johnny.

      "Why don't you go to work and earn enough money to buy some, then?" said the newsboy.

      "I can't. I aint got no money."

      "I've sold sixty papers this morning, and made sixty cents," said Rough and Ready.

      "I aint made nothing," said Johnny, despondently.

      "Come, I'll tell you what I'll do," said the newsboy. "Here's two 'Tribunes,' two 'Worlds' and 'Times' and three 'Heralds.' Just go round the corner, and sell 'em, and I'll give you all the profits."

      "All right!" said Johnny, brightening up at the prospect of making something. "What's the news?"

      "Steamboat exploded on the Mississippi! Five hundred people thrown half a mile high in the air! One man miraculously saved by falling in a mud hole! Can you remember all that?"

      "Yes," said Johnny. "Give me the papers."

      Johnny went round to Nassau Street, and began to cry the remarkable news which had just been communicated to him.

      "That ought to sell the papers," said Rough and Ready to himself. "Anyway, Johnny's got it exclusive. There aint any other newsboy that's got it."

      In about half an hour Johnny came back empty handed.

      "Sold all your papers?" asked the newsboy.

      "Yes," said Johnny; "but was that true about the steamboat?"

      "Why?"

      "'Cause people looked for it, and couldn't find it, and one man said he'd give me a lickin' if I called out news that wasn't true."

      "Well, if it isn't true now, it will be some other day. Explosions is a permanent institution. Anyhow, it isn't any worse for us to cry news that aint true, than for the papers to print it when they know it's false."

      Whatever may be thought of the morality of Rough and Ready's views on this subject, it must be admitted that in manufacturing news to make his papers sell, he was only imitating the example of some of our most prominent publishers. The same may be said of his readiness to adopt the political views and prejudices of his customers, for commercial profit. I may as well remark here, that, though Rough and Ready is a favorite of mine, for his energy, enterprise, and generous qualities, I do not mean to represent him as a model boy. I shall probably have to record some things of him which I cannot wholly approve. But then it is to be considered that he is a newsboy, whose advantages have been limited, who has been a familiar witness to different forms of wickedness ever since he was old enough to notice anything, and, notwithstanding, has grown up to be a pretty good boy, though not a model.

      In fact, one reason why I do not introduce any model boys into my stories is that I do not find them in real life. I know a good many of various degrees of goodness; but most of them have more failings than one,—failings which are natural to boys, springing oftentimes more from thoughtlessness than actual perverseness. These faults they must struggle with, and by determined effort they will be able, with God's help, to overcome them. They have less excuse than the friendless newsboy, because more care has been bestowed upon their education and moral training.

      "Here's eleven cents, Johnny," said the newsboy, after receiving from his assistant the proceeds of his sales. "Isn't it better to earn them than have somebody give them to you?"

      "I dunno," said Johnny, doubtfully.

      "Well, you ought to, then. I've sold fifteen more. That's seventy-five I've sold this morning. What are you going to do with your money?"

      "I got trusted for breakfast at the Lodge this mornin'," said Johnny; "but I must earn some more money, or I can't buy any dinner."

      "Which do you like best,—selling papers, or blacking boots?"

      "I like blackin' boots. 'Taint so hard work."

      "Why didn't you take care of your box?"

      "I laid it down in a doorway. I guess some boy stole it."

      "I'll tell you what I'll do, Johnny. I'll buy you a new box and brush, and we'll go whacks."

      "All right," said Johnny.

      As the allusion may not be understood by some of my young readers, I will explain that it is a custom among the more enterprising street boys, who are capitalists to a small amount, to set up their more needy fellows in business, on condition that they will pay half their earnings to the said capitalists as a profit on the money advanced. This is called "going whacks." It need hardly be said that it is a very profitable operation to the young capitalist, often paying fifty per cent. daily on his loan,—a transaction which quite casts into the shade the most tempting speculations of Wall Street.

      It is noteworthy that these young Bohemians, lawless as they often are, have a strict code of honor in regard to such arrangements, and seldom fail to make honest returns, setting a good example in so far to older business operators.

      On receiving Johnny's assent to his proposal, the newsboy proceeded to a street stand on Nassau Street, and bought the necessary articles for his companion, and then the two separated.

      Johnny, confiding in his prospects of future profits, stopped at the pie and cake stand at the north-east corner of Nassau and Fulton Streets, and bought of the enterprising old woman who has presided over it for a score of years, a couple of little pies, which he ate with a good appetite. He then shouldered his box and went to business.

      CHAPTER II.

      LITTLE ROSE

      Rough and Ready had sold out his stock of morning papers, and would have no more to do until the afternoon, when the "Evening Post" and "Express" appeared. The "Mail," "Telegram," and "News," which now give employment to so many boys, were not then in existence.

      I may as well take this opportunity to describe the newsboy who is to be the hero of my present story. As already mentioned, he was fifteen years old, stoutly built, with a clear, fresh complexion, and a resolute, good-humored face. He was independent and self-reliant, feeling able to work his own way without help, and possessed a tact and spirit of enterprise which augured well for his success in life. Though not so carefully dressed as most of the boys who will read this story, he was far from being as ragged as many of his fellow-newsboys. There were two reasons for this: he had a feeling of pride, which made him take some care of his clothes, and besides, until within a year, he had had a mother to look after him. In this respect he had an advantage over the homeless boys who wander about the streets, not knowing where they shall find shelter.

      But, within a year, circumstances had changed with our young hero. His mother had been left a widow when he was nine years old. Two years later she married a man, of whom she knew comparatively little, not from love, but chiefly that she might secure a comfortable support for her two children. This man, Martin, was a house-carpenter, and was СКАЧАТЬ