CHAPTER IX.
JULIUS.
At the time appointed, Paul and his mother moved into their new home.It was necessary to buy but a small quantity of new furniture, as Mrs.Talbot authorized them to take down from the upper rooms anything ofwhich they had need. She was led to this offer by the favorableopinion she had formed of Mrs. Hoffman. With the exception, therefore,of some bedding and a rocking-chair, the latter purchased nothing.
It took a little time, of course, to get accustomed to their newquarters. When, however, they had got to feel at home, they enjoyedthem. It was no longer possible, of course, for Paul to come home tothe noonday meal, since the distance between his place of business andthe house on Madison avenue was two miles and a half. He therefore wasaccustomed to take his lunch at a restaurant, for his mother hadadopted the common New York custom of having dinner at the end of theday.
It was about six weeks after Paul's removal to Madison avenue that oneday, on approaching the restaurant on Fulton street where he proposedto lunch, his attention was drawn to a famished-looking boy who waslooking in at the window at the viands within. It was impossible tomisinterpret his hungry look. Paul understood it at once, and hisheart was stirred with compassion. His own prosperity had not hardenedhim, but rendered him more disposed to lend a helping hand to thosemore needy.
"Are you hungry, Johnny?" he asked.
The boy turned at the sound of the words.
"Ain't I just?" he said.
"Didn't you have any breakfast?"
"I had a piece of bread."
"Was that all?"
"Yes,"
"Could you eat a plate of meat if I gave you some?"
"Try me and see," was the reply.
"Come in, then," said Paul.
"Will you pay for it?" asked the young Arab, almost incredulous.
"Yes, I will pay for it."
The boy waited for no further assurance. He was not in a position torefuse so advantageous a proposal. He shuffled in, therefore, directlybehind Paul.
It was not an aristocratic eating-house, but its guests werewell-dressed, and the ragged boy at once attracted unfavorableattention.
"Get out of here!" said a waiter.
"He told me to come in," said the boy, beginning to tremble at thethought of losing the proffered dinner.
Paul, at whom he pointed, was known at the restaurant.
"Did this boy come in with you?" asked the waiter.
"Yes," said Paul; "he's going to dine with me."
"All right."
The waiter was rather surprised at Paul's selection of a tablecompanion, but payment being thus guaranteed, could interpose nofurther objections.
"Sit down there, Johnny," said Paul, indicating a seat at one of theside tables and taking the seat opposite himself.
"Now what'll you have?" he asked, handing his young guest the bill offare.
The young Arab took it, and holding it upside down, looked at it inperplexity.
"I can't read," said he, handing it back.
"I suppose you can eat, though," said Paul. "What'll you have?"
"Anything that's good; I ain't pertikler," said the boy.
"Do you like stewed oysters?"
The boy eagerly replied in the affirmative.
"Stewed oysters for two," ordered Paul. "That'll do to begin on,Johnny. What's your real name?"
"Julius."
"Anything else?"
"That's all the name I know."
"You can take another when you need it. Did you ever hear of JuliusCaesar?"
"Yes," said the boy.
Paul was a little surprised to discover the boy's range of historicalinformation.
"What do you know about him?" he asked.
"I don't know him; I've seed him," said the boy.
"Where have you seen him?" asked Paul, rather astonished.
"Down in Baxter street."
"Does he live there?" asked Paul.
"Yes; he keeps a barber shop there."
Evidently the young Arab supposed that Julius Caesar, colored barber,within the precincts of the Five Points, was the one referred to byhis questioner. Paul did not explain to him his mistake.
"Have you got any father or mother?"
"No," said the boy.
"Where do you live?"
"In Centre street."
"What do you do for a living?"
"Sometimes I black boots; sometimes I beg."
"Who do you live with?"
"Jack Morgan."
"Is he any relation to you?"
"I dunno," answered the boy.
The conversation was here interrupted. The stews were placed on thetable, with a plate of crackers.
The boy's eyes glistened. He seized the spoon, and attacked his sharewith evident appetite.
"Poor little chap!" thought Paul, sympathetically; "he doesn't oftenget a good dinner. To-day he shall have all he can eat."
When the boy had finished, he said: "Will you have some pudding, orwould you like some more oysters?"
"I'd like the oysters, if it's all the same to you," answered Julius.
"Another stew and some apple dumpling," ordered Paul.
Julius was in appearance about twelve years of age. In reality he wasfourteen, being small of his age. He had black hair and a darkcomplexion; his face was thin and his figure slender. He had theexpression of one who was used to privation and knew how to bear itwithout much hope of anything better. His clothes were soiled andragged, but his face was clean. Water was cheap, and he wasunfashionably neat for the quarter in which he lived.
The stew was brought, and an extra plate of bread and butter.
"Now go ahead," said Paul. "Eat all you want."
Julius needed no other invitation. He proceeded vigorously toaccomplish the work before him, and soon both bread and oysters weredisposed of.
"Have you got enough?" asked Paul, smiling.
"Yes," said Julius; "I'm full."
Have you ever seen the satisfied look of an alderman as he rose from asumptuous civic banquet? The same expression was visible on the faceof the young Arab as he leaned back in his chair, with his handsthrust into his pockets.
"Then," said Paul, "we may as well be going."
The boy seized his ragged cap and followed his benefactor from theeating-house. When they reached the sidewalk, he turned to Paul andsaid:
"That was a bully dinner."
Paul understood that he intended to thank him, though his gratitudewas not directly expressed.
"I'm glad you liked it," said he; "but I must be going now."
Julius looked after him until he turned the corner. "He's been good tome," he said to himself; "maybe I can do something for him some day."
The young Arab had had few occasions for gratitude. The world had beena hard stepmother to him. It was years since he had known father ormother, and as long as he could remember he had been under theguardianship of a social outlaw, named Jack Morgan, who preyed uponthe community whenever he got a chance. Whenever he was under the banof the law, Julius had shifted for himself, or been transferred to oneof his lawless companions. The chances seemed to be in favor of Juliusgrowing up such another as his guardian. Had he been differentlyconstituted he would have been worse than he was. But his naturalinstincts were healthful, and when he had been left entirely tohimself he had lived by honest industry, devoting himself to some ofthe street occupations which were alone open to him. His most perilousperiod was when Jack resumed his guardianship, as he had done afortnight previous, on being released from a three months' residenceat Blackwell's Island.
What the tie was between him and the boy was unknown. Julius knew thatJack was not his father, for the latter had never made that claim.Sometimes he vaguely intimated that Julius was the son of his sister,and consequently his nephew, but as at times he gave a differentaccount, Julius did not know what to think. But he had alwaysacquiesced in his guardianship, and whenever Jack was at liberty hadwithout hesitation gone back to
him.
After a brief pause Julius followed Paul to the corner, and saw himtake his place beside the necktie stand. He then remembered to haveseen him there before.
"I thought I know'd him," he said; "I'll remember him now."
He wandered about vaguely, having no regular occupation. He had had ablacking-box and brush, but it had been stolen, and he had notreplaced it. He had asked Jack to lend him the money requisite to sethim up in the business again, but the latter had put him off,intimating that he should have something else for him to do. Juliushad therefore postponed seeking any other employment, beyond hoveringabout the piers and railway stations on the chance of obtaining a jobto carry a carpetbag or valise. This was a precarious employment, anddepended much more on good fortune than the business of a newsboy orbootblack. However, in the course of the afternoon Julius earnedtwenty-five cents for carrying a carpet-bag to French's Hotel. Thatsatisfied him, for he was not very ambitious. He invested the greaterpart of it in some coffee and cakes at one of the booths in FultonMarket, and about nine o'clock, tired with his day's tramp, sought themiserable apartment in Centre street which he shared with Jack Morgan.
Slow and Sure: The Story of Paul Hoffman the Young Street-Merchant Page 9