Tom, The Bootblack: or, The Road to Success

"New York street-boys ain't troubled that way."

"That's well, if not carried too far. Now, tell me how much you know."

"If it's about learning, I can do that in five minutes."

"Your education, I take it, has been neglected."

"I don't know much – I didn't have a chance to learn."

"Can you read?"

"When the words ain't too long."

"And write?"

"Not much."

"Then I advise you to take what leisure time you have to remedy the defects in your education."

"I'd like to, sir. I was ashamed of knowing so little when I was at Mr. Benton's."

"A good feeling, my boy. The more you know the better chance you stand to get on in the world. I am giving you a low place in my employment. If you want to be promoted, you must qualify yourself for it."

"I'll do it, sir," said our hero, manfully. "That's good advice, and I'll foller it."

"Success to you, my boy. You can now go, and come back Monday morning."

"Thank you, sir."

Tom left the counting-room in excellent spirits. He had found a place, and one just such as he liked. Five dollars a week, he foresaw, would not pay his expenses, but he was sure he could earn more in some way. As he was about to leave the store, Maurice, whose curiosity was aroused, came to meet him.

"Did you get through your important business?" he said, sneeringly.

"Not quite. I'm coming here again next Monday."

"Mr. Ferguson must be glad to see you."

"I'm comin' Tuesday, also."

"What, every day?"

"Yes; your boss has concluded to take me into the business."

"You ain't coming here to work?" said Maurice, hastily.

"You've hit the nail on the head."

"We've got enough clerks now."

"I'm comin' to help you sweep out in the mornin'."

Maurice was by no means pleased to hear this. Regarding Tom as his social inferior, he did not like to be placed on a level with him.

"How much pay are you to get?" he asked.

"Five dollars a week."

"The same as I get?"

"Yes."

Maurice was disgusted.

"Then I shall ask for higher pay."

"Go ahead. I don't care."

"Do you expect to live on your salary?"

"No, of course not. I've got private property."

"How much?"

"Go and ask the man that calls for the taxes."

"I don't believe it."

"Why, I'm payin' ten dollars a week for my board."

Finally our hero went out, leaving Maurice dissatisfied and annoyed – first that his rival, as he regarded him, had obtained a place in the same establishment with himself, and next that the new-comer was to receive the same salary. He sent in an application, the next day, for increase of pay, but it was dismissed, with the curt response that when he earned more he would get it.

Meanwhile Tom bent his steps toward the Ohio river. Of course, my readers know that Cincinnati is on the north bank of the Ohio, and that just across is a town in Kentucky.

"I'd like to see Kentucky," said Tom to himself. "I guess I'll go across."

Small river steamers convey passengers across the river for a very small sum. Our hero paid the required fee and went on board.

"It's some like goin' across to Jersey," he thought.

There was the usual variety of passengers – men, women, and children. Tom sat down beside a young man well dressed, but a little strange in his manners. It was evident that he had been drinking too much, and was under the influence of liquor at present. He was perfectly quiet, however, till they were in the middle of the stream, when, all at once, he climbed the railing and threw himself into the turbid waters of the river.

The passengers seemed paralyzed by the suddenness of the action. Our hero was the first to recover, and, being an expert swimmer, jumped in after him without hesitation.

CHAPTER XIV.

A FASHIONABLE BOARDING-HOUSE

When Tom's head emerged from the yellow and turbid waters, he caught sight of the young man, and struck out for him. Grasping him by the arm, he succeeded, with considerable difficulty, in holding him up till a small boat near by picked both up.

"Whew!" sputtered Tom, spitting out some of the water which he had involuntarily taken into his mouth.

The young man rescued looked about him stupidly.

"What made you jump into the river?" asked the boatman.

"I was drunk," said the young man, frankly, upon whom the shock of the falling into the water had produced a favorable effect.

"It's lucky this boy was near and jumped after you, or you might have been drowned before I got to you."

The young man turned and looked earnestly at Tom.

"So you jumped after me?" he said.

"I feel as if I did," answered Tom. "I'm as wet as a drowned rat."

"You're a brave boy."

"Thank you," said Tom, modestly. "But I can swim so well that it didn't take much courage."

"I can't swim a stroke."

"Then you'd better not jump into the water again."

"I don't mean to," said the young man, smiling. "Where did you learn to swim?"

"In the East river."

"Where's that?"

"New York."

"Look here, gentlemen, where do you want to be carried?" asked the boatman.

"Back to Cincinnati. I'll pay you for your trouble," said the young man.

"I was goin' on an explorin' expedition to Kentucky," said our hero.

"You are too wet; you must take another day."

"It ain't any wetter on one side of the river than the other."

"Do you live in Kentucky?"

"No."

"In Cincinnati?"

"Yes; I've lived there a day or two."

"You must change your clothes, or you will get cold."

"I haven't got any clothes except what I've got on."

The young man looked rather surprised at this, since Tom had on a good suit, and appeared to be in good circumstances.

"Then," said he, promptly, "I shall take you home with me, and lend you one of my suits."

"It would fit me too much," said Tom, laughing.

"Never mind. We will stay in the house till your clothes are dry. What do you say?"

"All right," said Tom. "I'm agreeable."

When they came to the Ohio side of the river the two got off. The young man was so well over his fit of drunkenness that he walked quite steadily, showing no trace of it in his gait.

"I live a mile and a half away," he said, "but it will be better to walk, as we shall be less liable to take cold in our wet clothes. Or, do you feel tired?"

"Not a bit," said Tom. "I'm used to walkin'. My coachman don't have much to do."

"You're a genius," said the young man.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Tom. "If I'm a fair specimen, geniuses don't know much."

"At any rate, you are not such a fool as I am."

"Are you a fool?"

"Any man is a fool that gets drunk."

"I don't know but you're right," said Tom. "What makes you do it?"

"Because I'm a fool. That's all the reason I can give. I'm too weak to resist temptation."

"I never was drunk but once," said Tom. "I don't want to be again."

"How did that happen?"

"A sailor invited me into a bar-room, and got me to drink. I felt as if my head would burst open the next morning."

"So you didn't get drunk again?"

"No, I got enough of it."

"What is your name?" asked the young man, interested.

"Gilbert Grey."

"Do you live in this city?"

"I'm goin' to."

"I wish you would come and live with me."

"What for?"

"Because, though you are younger, you know how to take care of yourself. I think you would take care of me, too."

"If you pay me good wages," said Tom, "I'm willin' to be your guardian."

"I am in earnest," said the young man. "It would do me good to have some one help me keep straight."

"How many times a week would you want me to jump into the water after you?" asked our hero, jocularly. "Because I'd want to keep a good stock of dry clothes on hand; or maybe I might wear a bathin' suit all the time."

"I sha'n't try that again," said the other, smiling; "I don't like it well enough."

By this time they reached a handsome brick house, in a fine street.

"This is where I board," said the young man. "Come in."

He rang the bell, and a servant answered the summons. She looked surprised at the appearance of the pair, both showing signs of the wetting they had received.

"We met with an accident, Bridget," explained the young man, "or rather I tumbled into the water and this boy jumped after me."

"Faith you look like it, Mr. Mordaunt," said Bridget. "Will I tell Mrs. White?"

"Yes. Ask her if she can send us up some hot coffee in about twenty minutes. I am afraid, if we don't have some hot drink, we will take cold."

"All right, sir."

A hasty glance satisfied Tom that it was a first-class boarding-house. The hall was handsomely furnished, and when, on reaching the head of the stairs, his companion led the way into a spacious room, with a chamber connecting, our young hero saw a rich carpet, elegant furniture, a handsome collection of books, and some tasteful pictures upon the walls. It was evident that Mr. Mordaunt was possessed of ample means.

"Now – by the way, I've forgotten your name, yet – "

"Gilbert Grey. Some call me Tom, for short."

"Now, Gilbert, make yourself at home. The best thing we can do is to strip at once, and put on dry clothes."

He went to a wardrobe and brought out two suits of clothes, also a supply of under-clothing.

"There," said he, "go ahead and change your clothes."

Tom followed directions obediently, while his companion was similarly employed. Of course, it was necessary to wash, also. The clothes were too large for him, but still not much, as he was a well-grown boy, and Mr. Mordaunt was by no means large.

"How do you like the looks?" asked the young man, as Tom surveyed himself in a handsome mirror.

"I expect it's me, but I ain't certain," said Tom. "It'll take me some time to grow to these clothes."

"They are rather big, that's a fact," said the young man, smiling. "When the servant comes up with the coffee, we'll send down our suits to be dried. Will your friends feel anxious about you?"

"There's one will, I expect," said Tom.

"Who is that – your mother?"

"No; it's my intimate friend, Maurice Walton. He can't bear me out of his sight, or in it, either."

Mordaunt laughed.

"So he's very devoted, is he?"

"You bet he is."

Here there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," called Mordaunt.

Bridget entered with a waiter, on which were a coffee-pot, some cups and saucers, sugar, etc., beside a plate of sandwiches.

"Thank you, Bridget," said Mordaunt. "I see you understood what was wanted. Now, if you'll take down them wet clothes and dry them for us, we will be much obliged."

"I'll do it, Mr. Mordaunt," said the willing handmaiden.

"Now, Gilbert, sit down, and we'll have a good cup of coffee apiece," said Mordaunt. "You're hungry, are you not?"

"Bathin' in such a big tub gave me an appetite," said Tom; "but I wouldn't like to get up an appetite that way every day."

"Nor I. It's too much trouble, not to speak of the danger. How do you find the coffee?"

"Tip-top."

"It's a good deal better than wine, eh?"

"That's so."

"Now, Gilbert, while we are taking lunch I have a little plan to propose to you."

"All right. I'm ready."

CHAPTER XV.

TOM CHANGES HIS BOARDING-HOUSE

"Where are you boarding?" Mordaunt began.

"At the Ohio Hotel. But I don't mean to stay. I'm lookin' out some first-class boardin'-house, where they don't charge mor'n five dollars a week."

"You haven't found one yet?"

"No."

"Come here and room with me."

"Don't you pay but five dollars?"

"Rather more," said Mordaunt, laughing.

"I only get five dollars a week for my valuable services," said Tom. "I pay that for board, and get my clothes with the balance. If I hadn't a fortune of ten dollars to fall back upon, I'd have to go without."

"Is that really the way you are situated?" asked Mordaunt, seriously.

"Yes."

"Then," said the young man, "come and board with me, and it sha'n't cost you a cent. I'll have another bed put into the bedroom, and we'll make ourselves as comfortable as we can."

"Do you mean it?" asked Tom, incredulously.

"Certainly."

"And you'll pay my board for the sake of my agreeable society?"

"Just so," answered his companion.

"Then you're a tip-top feller, and I won't refuse such a good offer."

"Good! That's settled, then," said the young man, with satisfaction. "Now I'll tell you my reasons for making you such an offer. I am an orphan, and with no near relations, except an uncle in Canada, with whose family I am little acquainted. I inherited from my father, who died just as I reached the age of twenty-one, a fortune of one hundred thousand dollars."

"Whew!" said our hero; "that's a big pile of money."

"It was too large for me. It took away my ambition and energy; and though for two years I have been in a law office, pretending to study law, I have wasted my time in drinking among unworthy companions. The fact is, I am of a sociable disposition, and I found my room lonely. Now I want to turn over a new leaf, give up drinking, and devote myself more to study."

"I want to study, too," said Tom. "I'm as ignorant as a horse. I'll have to study some evenings."

"I'll teach you," said Mordaunt. "We'll spend our evenings that way, instead of in bar-rooms."

"All right," said our hero. "That suits me. But I ought not to let you pay my board."

"I can well afford it. My money is securely invested, and brings me in six thousand dollars a year clear."

"I shall have to work from now till I'm a gray-haired old patriarch before I earn six thousand dollars," said Tom, comically.

Mordaunt laughed.

"I hope it isn't so bad as that," he said. "Well, do you agree?"

"To come here as your guardian?"

"Yes, if you put it in that way."

"You are very kind to me," said our hero, changing his tone and speaking earnestly. "I am a poor boy, and don't know much. I'm afraid you'll be ashamed of introducing me to your friends."

"Friends! I have no friends that care for me. They care for my money, and are jolly enough; but, if I needed help, they wouldn't give it. I don't know why it is, but I like you. You saved my life this morning, and I would rather have you live with me than any one I know. So, when your clothes are dry, go round to the hotel, and bring your trunk here."

"I haven't got any trunk," said Tom. "I wouldn't have any use for one. I've got a carpet-bag."

"Very well. Bring that. Now you must do me a favor."

"All right. Only if it's to lend you a hundred dollar bill, I'm afraid I couldn't do it."

"I hope some time you will be rich enough to grant such favor; but that isn't the favor I meant."

"What is it?"

"You must let me buy you some more clothes."

Tom was about to object, but Mordaunt continued:

"Remember, I've got more money than I know what to do with. I owe you something for the wetting I exposed you to."

"I won't resist very hard," said Tom. "I s'pose you want your guardian to look respectable."

Later in the day, when their clothes were dry, Mordaunt took Tom to a fashionable clothing store, and bought him two suits of clothes, of handsome cloth and stylish cut, and, in addition, purchased him a sufficient stock of under-clothing. He also ordered a trunk to be sent up to the room. Then, it being time, they went home to supper. Mordaunt had already spoken to Mrs. White about receiving our hero as a boarder. Of course she was very ready to do so.

Tom felt, at first, a little embarrassed, but this feeling soon wore away. He was not a guest, but a boarder, and was addressed by the landlady and the boarders as Mr. Grey. He came near laughing the first time he was called by this name, but soon got used to it.

It was a first-class boarding-house. There were some dozen boarders, all of ample means. As Tom looked around him, and remembered that only a short time previous he had been a New York street-boy and bootblack, he could hardly believe that the change was permanent.

"What would they think if they knowed what I was?" he thought.

Next to him at table sat an elderly young lady, who was not in the habit of receiving attentions from gentlemen of marriageable age, and was therefore inclined to notice those more youthful.

"Do you like the opera, Mr. Grey?" she asked.

"Do you?" asked Tom, who had never heard an opera in his life.

New York bootblacks seldom attend such classic entertainments. They prefer the old Bowery entertainments.

"I dote upon it," said Miss Green, enthusiastically.

"So do I," said Tom, much to Mordaunt's amusement.

"What is your favorite opera?" asked Miss Green.

"I haven't got any favorite," said Tom, who thought this the best answer, as he did not know the name of any.

"I think Trovatore splendid."

"It's tip-top."

"That's a gentleman's word," said Miss Green, laughing. "I am glad you agree with me. Do you sing yourself?"

"A little," said Tom. "Shall I come and sing under your window to-night?"

There was a general laugh at this offer.

"Oh, do!" said Miss Green. "Do you often serenade ladies?"

"I used to, but I had to give it up."

"Why, Mr. Grey?"

"Because it was taken for a cat-concert, and people used to throw bottles at me. I couldn't stand that."

"I'll promise not to throw any bottles at you, Mr. Grey."

"I'll let you know when I'm comin'," said Tom. "My voice ain't in order just at present. When it is, I'll do my best to keep you awake."

"Really, Gilbert," said Mordaunt, when they had left the table, and returned to their room, "you got up quite a flirtation with Miss Green. It will be a good match for you. She's got money, and isn't more than twice as old as you are."

"But when I got to be fifty she'd be a hundred," said Tom. "I guess I'll leave her for you."

"She has tried her fascinations on me already," said Mordaunt; "but she soon concluded there wasn't any chance, and gave it up. She'll be wanting you to take her to the opera, as you dote upon it so much."

"The only opera house I ever went to was in the Bowery."

"That's what I thought. Now, how shall we spend the evening?"

"Suppose we take a walk, and then come and study."

"A good plan. What would you like to study?"

"I can't read or write very well. I don't know much."

"We will stop at a bookstore on our way and buy such books as you want. Then I'll give you lessons."

While walking, a flashily-dressed young man recognizing Mordaunt, stepped up and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Come and play a game of billiards, Mordaunt," he said.

"I can't, Dacres. I've got an engagement with my friend here."

"Sorry for it. Won't he come, too?"

"No; he's young. I don't care to take him among such wild fellows as you."

"The last time I played billiards with Dacres he won a hundred dollars of me," said Mordaunt, as they passed on. "It might have been so to-night; but, now I have your company, I am safe."

On reaching home Tom spent an hour and a half in study, Mordaunt assisting him. The young man became interested in his task, and went to bed much better satisfied with himself.

CHAPTER XVI.

MAURICE IS ASTONISHED

Maurice Walton felt very much annoyed at the prospect of having Tom for a fellow-clerk. He felt jealous of him on account of the evident partiality of Bessie Benton for his society. He suspected, from Tom's style of talking, that he was "low and uneducated," and he would have given considerable to know that his hated rival had been a New York bootblack. But this knowledge he could not obtain from Tom. The latter delighted in mystifying him, and exciting suspicions which he afterward learned to be groundless.

Bright and early Tom made his appearance in front of Mr. Ferguson's establishment. As he came up one way, he met Maurice, looking sleepy and cross, coming from a different direction.

"Good-morning, Maurice," said our hero, good-naturedly. "Have you just got out of bed?"

"No," answered Maurice, crossly. "My name is Walton."

"How are you, Walton?"

"Mr. Walton, if you please," said Maurice, with dignity.

"Don't we feel big this morning, Mr. Walton?" said Tom, mischievously.

"Do you mean to insult me?"

"Wouldn't think of such a thing, Mr. Walton. My name is Mr. Grey."

Maurice didn't think proper to answer this remark – perhaps because he had nothing in particular to say. He opened the warehouse, and Tom entered.

"I don't know what made Mr. Ferguson take you," he said, amiably.

"Nor I," said Tom; "particularly as he had your valuable services."

"Very likely he took you out of charity," said Maurice.

"Did he take you out of charity?" asked Tom, innocently – "Mr. Walton?"

"How dare you speak of me in that way?" demanded Maurice, haughtily.

"It didn't take much courage," said Tom, coolly. "How dared you speak of me in that way?"

"That's different."

"Why is it?"

"You haven't got much money – you're almost a beggar."

"Where did you find out all that?"

"Anybody can tell by just looking at you."

"That's the way, then? Have you got much money?"

"My uncle has."

"So has my uncle."

"I don't believe it."

"That don't alter the fact."

"How much is he worth?"

"Over a hundred thousand dollars – I don't know how much more."

"Where does he live."

"He used to live in this city, but he's gone farther West."

Maurice was not decided whether to believe this statement or not. He wanted to disbelieve it, but was afraid it might be true. He tried a different tack.

"Where do you board? Are you at the Ohio Hotel? I hear it's a low place – third-class."

"You're about right. It isn't first-class."

"I suppose you had to go there because it was cheap?"

"It was the first hotel I came across. But I'm not there now – I've moved."

"Have you? Where are you now?"

"No. 12 Crescent Place."

Now Maurice knew that Crescent Place was in a fashionable quarter of the city. It astonished him that our hero, whose salary was but five dollars a week, should live in such a neighborhood.

"Twelve Crescent Place?" he repeated. "How much board do you pay?"

"That's a secret between me and the landlady," said Tom. "If you'll come round and see me this evening, you can judge for yourself."

Having a strong curiosity about Tom's circumstances, Maurice accepted the invitation.

"Perhaps there are two Crescent Places," he thought. "I don't believe he can afford to live in a fashionable boarding-house."

"Mr. Mordaunt," said Tom, when they were getting ready for supper, "I've invited a friend to call this evening."

"That's right. I shall be glad to see him."

"It's that boy that loves me so much, Maurice Walton. He's awfully jealous of me – tries to snub me all the time."

"Then why did you invite such a fellow to call?"

"Because he thinks I live in a poor place, and it will make him mad to find me in such a nice room."

"I see," said Mordaunt, laughing. "It isn't as a friend you invite him."

"I'm as much his friend as he is mine."

"What makes him dislike you."

"I don't know, except because Bessie Benton is polite to me, and seems to like my company."

Mordaunt laughed.

"That explains it fully," he said. "So you are rivals for the young lady's hand?"

"Not quite. I ain't quite ready to be married yet. I'll wait awhile. But Bessie's a tip-top girl."

"You must introduce me some time."

"All right. I'll try and get an invitation for you to call with me."

About eight o'clock Maurice reached Crescent Place, and, scanning the numbers, found No. 12.

"He can't live in such a house," thought he. "It's ridiculous."

Still, he rang the bell, and, when the servant appeared, he asked, rather hesitatingly:

"Does Gilbert Grey live here?"

"Yes, sir," said the servant. "Will you go up to his room?"

"I don't know where his room is. Will you ask him to come down?"

"There is somebody to see you, Mr. Grey," said the servant, after mounting the stairs.

"He's come," said our hero, in a low voice, to Mordaunt. "I'll go down and bring him up."