



Digitized by Cardinalis Etext Press [C.E.K.]
Prepared for Project Gutenberg by Andrew Sly





RAGGED DICK;

OR,

STREET LIFE IN NEW YORK WITH THE BOOT-BLACKS.

BY HORATIO ALGER JR.



  To Joseph W. Allen,
  at whose suggestion this story was undertaken,
  it is inscribed with friendly regard.



PREFACE


"Ragged Dick" was contributed as a serial story to the pages of the
Schoolmate, a well-known juvenile magazine, during the year 1867.
While in course of publication, it was received with so many
evidences of favor that it has been rewritten and considerably
enlarged, and is now presented to the public as the first volume
of a series intended to illustrate the life and experiences of the
friendless and vagrant children who are now numbered by thousands
in New York and other cities.

Several characters in the story are sketched from life. The
necessary information has been gathered mainly from personal
observation and conversations with the boys themselves. The author
is indebted also to the excellent Superintendent of the Newsboys'
Lodging House, in Fulton Street, for some facts of which he has been
able to make use. Some anachronisms may be noted. Wherever they
occur, they have been admitted, as aiding in the development of the
story, and will probably be considered as of little importance in
an unpretending volume, which does not aspire to strict historical
accuracy.

The author hopes that, while the volumes in this series may prove
interesting stories, they may also have the effect of enlisting the
sympathies of his readers in behalf of the unfortunate children whose
life is described, and of leading them to co-operate with the
praiseworthy efforts now making by the Children's Aid Society and
other organizations to ameliorate their condition.

New York, April, 1868



CHAPTER I

RAGGED DICK IS INTRODUCED TO THE READER


"Wake up there, youngster," said a rough voice.

Ragged Dick opened his eyes slowly, and stared stupidly in the face
of the speaker, but did not offer to get up.

"Wake up, you young vagabond!" said the man a little impatiently;
"I suppose you'd lay there all day, if I hadn't called you."

"What time is it?" asked Dick.

"Seven o'clock."

"Seven o'clock! I oughter've been up an hour ago. I know what 'twas
made me so precious sleepy. I went to the Old Bowery last night, and
didn't turn in till past twelve."

"You went to the Old Bowery? Where'd you get your money?" asked the
man, who was a porter in the employ of a firm doing business on
Spruce Street. "Made it by shines, in course. My guardian don't
allow me no money for theatres, so I have to earn it."

"Some boys get it easier than that," said the porter significantly.

"You don't catch me stealin', if that's what you mean," said Dick.

"Don't you ever steal, then?"

"No, and I wouldn't. Lots of boys does it, but I wouldn't."

"Well, I'm glad to hear you say that. I believe there's some
good in you, Dick, after all."

"Oh, I'm a rough customer!" said Dick. "But I wouldn't steal.
It's mean."

"I'm glad you think so, Dick," and the rough voice sounded gentler
than at first. "Have you got any money to buy your breakfast?"

"No, but I'll soon get some."

While this conversation had been going on, Dick had got up. His
bedchamber had been a wooden box half full of straw, on which the
young boot-black had reposed his weary limbs, and slept as soundly
as if it had been a bed of down. He dumped down into the straw
without taking the trouble of undressing.

Getting up too was an equally short process. He jumped out of the
box, shook himself, picked out one or two straws that had found
their way into rents in his clothes, and,