"Alger Jr, Horatio - The Young Explorer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Alger Horatio Jr)

the bills. He's a banker down in Wall Street, and he's rich enough to buy out
your whole place."
"The dinner will be paid for," said Ben, smiling.
"All right, gentlemen," said the waiter, more respectfully. "We'll be glad to
see you any time."
"Tom," said Ben, "I'm afraid you don't always tell the truth."
"Why not?"
"You told the waiter I was a Wall Street banker, and rich."
"Oh, what's the odds? You're rich enough to pay for the dinners, and that's all
he wants."
"You came near spoiling the appitite of that young man over at the opposite
table."
"I'd like to spoil his beauty. He feels too big. I don't like to see a feller
put on so many airs. What's the matter of me, I'd like to know?"
"Why, you see, Tom, your face isn't very clean. There are spots of blacking on
it."
"A feller can't be always washin' his face. I'll wash it to-morrow mornin' at
the lodge. Does it take away your appetite, too?"
"Not a bit," said Ben, laughing. "Nothing but a good dinner will take away
that."
"You're the kind of feller I like," said Tom emphatically. "You don't put on no
airs."
"I can't afford to," said Ben. "I'm a poor boy myself."
"I wouldn't feel poor if I had fifty dollars," returned Tom.
"I hope you'll have it sometime, and a good deal more."
"So do I. When I'm a rich man, I'll wash my face oftener."
"And put blacking on your boots instead of your face," added Ben.
"It might look better," Tom admitted.
When dinner was over the two boys directed their steps to the California
steamship office, on one of the North River piers.
CHAPTER VIII. A STRANGE ACQUAINTANCE.
Tom Cooper was too familiar with the streets of New York to pay any attention to
the moving panorama of which he and Ben formed a part. But everything was new
and interesting to Ben, who had passed his life in a quiet country town.
"I should think it was the Fourth of July," he said.
"Why?" asked the bootblack.
"Because there's such a lot of people and wagons in the streets."
"There's always as many as this, except Sundays," said Tom.
"Where do they all come from?" said Beu wonderingly.
"You've got me there," answered Tom. "I never thought about that. Look out!" he
exclaimed suddenly, dragging Ben from in front of a team coming up the street.
"Do you want to get run over?"
"I was looking the other way," said Ben, rather confused.
"You've got to look all ways to once here," said Tom.
"I guess you're right. Don't people often get run over?"
"Once in a while. There's a friend of mine—Patsy Burke—a newsboy, was run over
last year and had his leg broke. They took him to Bellevue Hospital, and cut it
off."
"Is he alive now?"
"Oh, yes, he's alive and to work, the same as ever. He's got a wooden leg."