"I'll take a glass," he said.
A dab of ice-cream was deposited in a glass, and with a pewter spoon handed to Ben. He raised the spoon to his mouth, but alas! the mixture was not quite so tempting to the taste as to the eye and the pocket. It might be ice-cream, but there was an indescribable flavor about it, only to be explained on the supposition that the ice had been frozen dish-water. Ben's taste had not been educated up to that point which would enable him to relish it. He laid it down with an involuntary contortion of the face.
"Give it to me, Johnny," he heard at his elbow.
Turning, he saw a small, dirty-faced boy of six, with bare feet and tattered attire, who was gazing with a look of greedy desire at the delicious mixture.
Ben handed him the glass and spoon, and stood by, looking at him with some curiosity as he disposed of the contents with a look of evident enjoyment.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"It's bully," said the young epicure.
If Ben had not been restricted by his narrow means, he would have purchased another glass for the urchin. It would have been a very cheap "treat." But our young adventurer reflected that he had but twenty-two cents left, and prudence forbade.
"I don't see how he can like the nasty stuff," he thought.
But the time was to come when Ben himself, grown less fastidious, would be able to relish food quite as uninviting.
Ben made his way across the Park to Broadway again. He felt that it was high time for him to be seeking employment. His ideas on this subject were not very well defined, but when he left home he made up his mind that he would try to get a place in a store on Broadway. He supposed that, among the great number of stores, there would be a chance for him to get into some one. He expected to make enough to live in a comfortable boarding-house, and buy his clothes, though he supposed that would be about all. He expected to have to economize on spending money the first year, but the second year his wages would be raised, and then it would come easier. All this shows how very verdant and unpractical our young adventurer was, and what disappointment he was preparing for himself.
However, Ben's knowledge was to come by experience, and that before long.
Reaching Broadway, he walked up slowly on the west side, looking in at the shop-windows. In the lower part of this busy street are many wholesale houses, while the upper part is devoted principally to retail shops. Coming to a large warehouse for the sale of ready-made clothing, Ben thought he might as well begin there. In such a large place there must be a good deal to do.
He passed in and looked about him rather doubtfully. The counters, which were numerous, were filled high with ready-made garments. Ben saw no one as small as himself, and that led him to doubt whether his size might not be an objection.
"Well, sonny, what do you want?" asked a clerk.
"Don't you want to hire a boy?" asked our young adventurer, plunging into his business.
"I suppose you have had considerable experience in the business?" said the clerk inclined to banter him a little.
"No, I haven't," said Ben, frankly.
"Indeed, I judged from your looks that you were a man of experience."
"If you don't want to hire me, I'll go," said Ben, independently.
"Well, young man, I'm afraid you'll have to go. The fact is, we should have to higher you before we could hire you;" and the clerk laughed at his witticism.
Ben naturally saw nothing to laugh at, but felt rather indignant. He stepped into the street, a little depressed at the result of his first application. But then, as he reflected, there were a great many other stores besides this, and he might have better luck next time. He walked on some distance, however, before trying again. Indeed, he had got above Bleecker Street, when his attention was arrested by a paper pasted inside of a shop-window, bearing the inscription: —
Ben did not clearly understand what were the duties of a cash-boy, though he supposed they must have something to do with receiving money. Looking in through the glass door he saw boys as small as himself flitting about, and this gave him courage to enter and make an application for a place.
He entered, therefore, and walked up boldly to the first clerk he saw.
"Do you want a cash-boy?" he asked.
"Go up to that desk, Johnny," said the clerk, pointing to a desk about midway of the store. A stout gentleman stood behind it, writing something in a large book.
Ben went up, and repeated his inquiry. "Do you want a cash-boy?"
"How old are you?" asked the gentleman looking down at him.
"Ten years old."
"Have you ever been in a store?"
"No, sir."
"Do you live in the city?"
"Yes, sir."
"With your parents?"
"No, sir," said Ben, with hesitation.
"Who do you live with, then?"
"With nobody. I take care of myself."
"Humph!" The gentleman looked a little surprised, not at the idea of a boy of ten looking out for himself, for such cases are common enough in New York, but at the idea of such a well-dressed lad as Ben being in that situation.
"How long have you been your own man?" he inquired.
"I've only just begun," Ben admitted.
"Are your parents dead?"
"No, sir; they're alive."
"Then I advise you to go back to them. We don't receive any boys into our employment, who do not live with their parents."
The gentleman returned to his writing, and Ben saw that his case was hopeless. His disappointment was greater than before, for he liked the looks of the proprietor, if, as he judged, this was he. Besides, boys were wanted, and his size would be no objection, judging from the appearance of the other boys in the store. So he had been sanguine of success. Now he saw that there was an objection which he could not remove, and which would be very likely to stand in his way in other places.
CHAPTER IV.
A RESTAURANT ON FULTON STREET
Ben kept on his way, looking in at the shop windows as before. He had not yet given up the idea of getting a place in a store, though he began to see that his chances of success were rather small.
The next pause he came to was before a bookstore. Here, too, there was posted on the window: —
Ben entered. There were two or three persons behind the counter. The oldest, a man of forty, Ben decided to be the proprietor. He walked up to him, and said, "Do you want a boy?"
"Yes," said the gentleman. "We want a boy to run of errands, and deliver papers to customers. How old are you?"
"Ten years old."
"That is rather young."
"I'm pretty strong of my age," said Ben, speaking the truth here, for he was rather larger and stouter than most boys of ten.
"That is not important, as you will not have very heavy parcels to carry. Are you well acquainted with the streets in this part of the city?"
This question was a poser, Ben thought. He was at first tempted to say yes, but decided to answer truthfully.
"No, sir," he answered.
"Do you live in the lower part of the city?"
"Yes, sir; that is, I'm going to live there."
"How long have you lived in the city?"
"I only arrived this morning," Ben confessed, reluctantly.
"Then