day.
I was unwilling that the burden of supporting me should be borne by my generous protector; and being anxious to do something for myself, I asked him what I should go about.
“I’ve just been thinking of that,” said he, “and I believe I’ve hit upon an idea. Suppose you sell newspapers? I see many lads about your age in that business here; and they must make something at it. It’s not hard work, besides it appears to be very respectable. It is a lit’rary business, as no boy should be ’shamed of.”
I approved of the plan, and joyfully agreed to give it a trial.
It was arranged that the next morning I should go to the office of a daily paper – buy a bundle of copies; and try to dispose of them at a profit.
Early the next morning, Stormy started off to his work on the ship, and I to a newspaper office.
I reached the place too early to get out the papers; but found several boys waiting like myself. I joined their company, listened to them, and was much interested in their conversation, without very clearly comprehending what they were talking about.
I could distinctly hear every word they said; but the meaning of the words I knew not, for the most of them were slang phrases – such as I had never heard before.
I could see that they were very fast boys – much faster than I was – although the “Rolling Stone” had not been for several years rolling through the streets of Dublin, without learning some city sharpness.
I entered into conversation with two of the boys, in order to find out something of the business of news-vending; and could see from their manner that they regarded me, as they would have said, “not all thar.”
They pretended to give me such information as I required; but I afterwards learnt that they had not told me one word of truth.
When the papers were published, I went in with the others, put down a half dollar, and received in exchange the correct number of copies. I hurried out, walked some distance from the office, and commenced offering my wares for sale.
On turning down a wide street, I met three gentlemen, each of whom took a copy out of my hands and gave me a picayune in return.
I was doing business for myself – buying and selling; and in my soul arose a feeling of independence and pride that has never been so thoroughly awakened since.
I passed along the street, till I came to a large hotel, where I saw two other gentlemen under the verandah.
I went up to them, offered my goods as before, and each took a newspaper. As one of them offered me payment for his copy, I had hardly the strength to hand him the paper and take his money. I nearly dropped to the pavement. The man was Captain Brannon, of the ship “Hope,” to whom I had been apprenticed!
I moved away from him as fast as my trembling limbs would carry me; and the glance which I could not help throwing over my shoulder, told me that I had not been recognised.
This was the man, who had promised to treat me as he would his own son; and yet during a long voyage had taken so little notice of me, that I could thus transact business with him, without being recognised!
By twelve o’clock my work for the day was finished; and I returned to the lodging-house with a dollar in picayune pieces – having made a hundred per cent on my capital.
I was at that hour the happiest boy in New Orleans.
I was happy, yet full of impatience, as I waited through the long afternoon for the return of Stormy Jack.
There was pride and pleasure in the anticipation of his approval of my exertions, when I should show him the money I had made. It was the first money I had ever earned – my only transactions with the circulating medium before that time, having been to spend it, as fast as it could be obtained from a fond father.
I entered into an elaborate calculation by an arithmetical rule I had learned under the name of “reduction,” and found that I had made in one day, by my own exertions, over two shillings of English money.
I had pride – pride in my ability to make money at all, and pride in my scholastic acquirements, which enabled one so young to tell how much had been gained, for I was not able to comprehend fully the amount, until I had brought it into shillings and pence.
With burning impatience I waited for the return of Stormy. Being fatigued, however, I fell asleep, and dreamt of having made a fortune, and of having had a fight with Mr Leary, in which that gentleman – to make use of Stormy’s favourite expression – had been “taught some manners.”
When I awoke, I looked eagerly at a clock. It was past seven in the evening, and Stormy Jack had not returned!
He had been due more than an hour. The happiness I had been all day indulging in, suddenly forsook me; and a sickening sensation of loneliness came over my soul.
I sat up waiting and watching for him until a very late hour – in fact until I was driven to bed by the landlady; but Stormy did not return.
Volume One – Chapter Five.
God Help Us!
No week of my life ever seemed so long, as that night spent in waiting for the return of Stormy Jack. It was not until the sun beams were gushing through my window in the morning, that I was able to fall asleep.
By nine o’clock I was up, and out upon the streets in search of my companion and protector. My search was continued all day without success.
I did not know the name of the ship on which he had gone to work; and therefore I had no clue to his whereabouts. In fact I had such a slight clue to guide me, that my search was but little less than the pursuit of folly.
I did not like to believe that Stormy had wilfully deserted me.
In my lone and friendless condition, with the memory of the way in which I had left my mother, to have thought so, would have made me desirous of dying. I had rather think that some serious accident had happened him, than that he had abandoned me to my fate, to avoid any further trouble I might give him.
Another idea occurred to me. He might have been found by some of the officers of the “Hope,” and either taken aboard, or imprisoned for deserting. This was so probable, that for awhile I was tempted to go back to the ship and resume my duties.
Reflection told me, that if he had fallen into the hands of the captain, he would not leave me alone in a city like New Orleans. He would tell the captain where I was staying, and have me sent for and brought aboard.
The only, or what seemed the best thing I could do, was to return to the lodging-house, and there await the event.
After a long weary day spent in vain search for my lost companion, I carried this idea into effect, and went back to the lodging-house. As I anticipated, Stormy had not returned to it.
The landlady was a woman of business; and fancied, or rather believed, that my responsible protector had deserted me, leaving her with a boy to keep, and a bill unpaid.
She asked me if I had any money. In reply, I produced all I had. All but one “picayune” of it was required, for the payment of the score we had already run up.
“Now, my lad,” said she, “you had better try to find some employment, where you will earn a living. You
