Читать книгу Rough and Ready - Alger Horatio Jr., Thomas Chandler Haliburton - Страница 5

Presently the door was opened, and James Martin entered with an unsteady step. His breath was redolent with the fumes of alcohol, and his face wore the brutish, stupid look of one who was under the influence of intoxication. He was rather above the middle height, with a frame originally strong. His hair and beard had a reddish tinge. However he might have appeared if carefully dressed, he certainly presented an appearance far from prepossessing at the present moment.

Rough and Ready surveyed his stepfather with a glance of contempt and disgust, which he did not attempt to conceal. Rose clung to his side with a terrified look.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Martin, sinking heavily into a chair.

"I'm taking care of my sister," said the newsboy, putting his arm protectingly round Rose's neck.

"You'd better go to work. I can take care of her," said the stepfather.

"Nice care you take of her!" retorted the newsboy, indignantly.

"Don't you be impudent, you young rascal," said Martin, with an unsteady voice. "If you are, I'll give you a flogging."

"Don't talk to him, Rufie," said little Rose, who had reason to fear her stepfather.

"I must, Rosie," said the newsboy, in a low voice.

"What are you muttering there?" demanded the drunkard, suspiciously.

"Where are my sister's new clothes?" asked Rough and Ready.

"I don't know about any new clothes. She aint got any as I know of."

"She had some this morning,—some that I bought and paid for. What have you done with them?"

"I've sold 'em," said Martin, doggedly, his assumed ignorance ceasing. "That's what I've done with 'em."

"What did you sell them for?" demanded the newsboy, persistently.

"What business has she got with new clothes, when we haven't got enough to eat, I'd like to know?"

"If we haven't got enough to eat, it isn't my fault," said the boy, promptly. "I do my part towards supporting the family. As for you, you spend all your money for rum, and some of mine too."

"What business is it of yours?" said the drunkard, defiantly.

"I want you to bring back my sister's clothes. What have you done with them?"

"You're an impudent young rascal."

"That isn't answering my question."

"Do you want me to give you a flogging?" asked Martin, looking angrily at our hero from his inflamed eyes.

"Don't say any more to him, Rufus," said little Rose, timidly.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, stealing a little girl's clothes, and selling them for rum," said the newsboy, scornfully.

This was apparently too much for the temper of Martin, never very good. He rose from his chair, and made a movement towards the newsboy, with the purpose of inflicting punishment upon him for his bold speech. But he had drunk deeply in the morning, and since selling little Rose's clothes, had invested part of the proceeds in additional liquor, which now had its effect. He stood a moment wavering, then made a step forward, but the room seemed to reel about, and he fell forward in the stupor of intoxication. He did not attempt to rise, but lay where he fell, breathing heavily.

"O Rufus!" cried Rose, clinging still more closely to her brother, whom she felt to be her only protector.

"Don't be afraid, Rosie," said the newsboy. "He won't hurt you. He's too drunk for that."

"But when he gets over it, he'll be so angry, he'll beat me."

"I'd like to see him do it!" said the newsboy, his eye flashing.

"I'm so afraid of him, Rufus. He wasn't quite so bad when mother was alive. It's awful to live with him."

"You shan't live with him any longer, Rose."

"What do you mean, Rufus?" said the little girl, with an inquiring glance.

"I mean that I'm going to take you away," said the boy, firmly. "You shan't live any longer with such a brute."

"Where can we go, Rufus?"

"I don't know. Any place will be better than here."

"But will he let me go?" asked Rose, with a timid look at the form stretched out at her feet.

"I shan't ask him."

"He will be angry."

"Let him be. We've had enough of him. We'll go away and live by ourselves."

"That will be nice," said little Rose, hopefully, "somewhere where he cannot find us."

"Yes, somewhere where he cannot find us."

"When shall we go?"

"Now," said the newsboy, promptly. "We'll go while he is lying there, and can't interfere with us. Get your bonnet, and we'll start."

A change of residence with those who have a superfluity of this world's goods is a formidable affair. But the newsboy and his sister possessed little or nothing besides what they had on, and a very small bundle, done up hastily in an old paper on which Rough and Ready had been "stuck," that is, which he had left on his hands, contained everything which they needed to take away.

They left the room, closing the door after them, and went down the rickety stairs, the little girl's hand being placed confidingly in that of her brother. At length they reached the foot of the last staircase, and passed through the outer door upon the sidewalk.

"It's the last time you'll go into that house," said the newsboy. "You can bid good-by to it."

"Where are we going now, Rufus?"

"I am going to see if I can find, and buy back, your new clothes, Rose. We'll walk along Baxter Street, and maybe we'll see them hanging up in some shop."

"But have you got money enough to buy them back, Rufus?"

"I think I have, Rose. Wouldn't you like to have them again?"

"Yes, Rufus; but it is too much money for you to pay. Never mind the clothes. I can get along without them," said Rose, though it cost her a pang to give up the nice dress which had given her so much innocent pleasure.

"No, Rose, I want you to wear them. We are going to live respectably now, and I don't want to see you wearing that old calico dress."

Little Rose was dressed in a faded calico gown, which had been made over, not very artistically, from a dress which had belonged to her mother. It had been long in use, and showed the effects of long wear. It had for some time annoyed the newsboy, who cared more that his sister should appear well dressed than himself. He knew that his sister was pretty, and he felt proud of her. Feeling as he did, it is no wonder that his indignation was aroused by the conduct of his stepfather in selling his little sister's new clothes, which he had bought out of his scanty earnings. While they had been speaking, they had walked to the end of the block and turned into Baxter Street.

Baxter Street is one of the most miserable streets in the most miserable quarter of the city. It is lined with old-clothing shops, gambling-dens, tumble-down tenements, and drinking saloons, and at all times it swarms with sickly and neglected children, bold and wretched women, and the lowest class of men. One building, which goes by the name of Monkey Hall, is said to be a boarding-house for the monkeys, which during the day are carried about by Italian organ-grinders. It was in this street where Rufus had reason to believe that his sister's clothes might be found.

The two children walked slowly on the west side, looking into the old-clothes shops, as they passed.

"Come in, boy," said a woman at the entrance of one of the shops. "I'll fit you out cheap."

"Have you got any clothes that will do for this little girl?" asked the newsboy.

"For the little gal? Yes, come in; I'll fit her out like a queen."

The shabby little shop hardly looked like a place where royal attire could be procured. Still it might be that his sister's clothes had been sold to this woman; so Rough and Ready thought it well to enter.

The woman rummaged about among some female attire at the back part of the shop, and brought forward a large-figured de laine dress, of dingy appearance, and began to expatiate upon its beauty in a voluble tone.

"That's too large," said Rough and Ready. "It's big enough for me."

"Maybe you'd like it for yourself," said the woman, with a laugh.

"I don't think it would suit my style of beauty," said the newsboy. "Haven't you got anything smaller?"

"This'll do," persisted the woman. "All you've got to do is to tuck it up so;" and she indicated the alteration. "I'll sew it up in a minute."

"No, it won't do," said the newsboy, decidedly. "Come, Rose."

They went into another shop, where a man was in attendance; but here again their inquiries were fruitless.

They emerged from the shop, and, just beyond, came to a basement shop, the entrance to which was lined with old clothes of every style and material. Some had originally been of fine cloth and well made, but had in course of time made their way from the drawing-room to this low cellar. There were clothes of coarser texture and vulgar cut, originally made for less aristocratic customers, which perhaps had been sold to obtain the necessaries of life, or very possibly to procure supplies for the purchase of rum. Looking down into this under-ground shop, the quick eyes of Rose caught sight of the new dress, of which she had been so proud, depending from a nail just inside.

"There it is," she said, touching the newsboy on the arm. "I can see it."

"So it is. Let's go down."

They descended the stone steps, and found themselves in a dark room, about twelve feet square, hung round with second-hand garments. The presiding genius of the establishment was a little old man, with a dirty yellow complexion, his face seamed with wrinkles, but with keen, sharp eyes, who looked like a spider on the watch for flies.

"What can I sell you to-day, young gentleman?" he asked, rubbing his hands insinuatingly.

"What's the price of that dress?" asked Rough and Ready, coming straight to the point.

"That elegant dress," said the old man, "cost me a great deal of money. It's very fine."

"I know all about it," said the newsboy, "for I bought it for my sister last week."

"No, no, you are mistaken, young gentleman," said the old man, hastily, fearing it was about to be reclaimed. "I've had it in my shop a month."

"No, you haven't," said the newsboy, bluntly; "you bought it this morning of a tall man, with a red nose."

"How can you say so, young gentleman?"

"Because it's true. The man took it from my sister, and carried it off. How much did you pay for it?"

"I gave two dollars and a half," said the old man, judging from the newsboy's tone that it was useless to persist in his denial. "You may have it for three dollars."

"That's too much. I don't believe you gave more than a dollar. I'll give you a dollar and a half."

The old man tried hard to get more, but as Rough and Ready was firm, and, moreover, as he had only given fifty cents for the dress an hour before, he concluded that he should be doing pretty well in making two hundred per cent. profit, and let it go.

The newsboy at once paid the money, and asked if his sister could put it on there. A door in the back part of the shop was opened, revealing an inner room, where Rose speedily made the change, and emerged into the street with her old dress rolled up in a bundle.