PAUL LOOKED ON AT THESE PREPARATIONS WITH THE MOST PROFOUND SURPRISE.
Ben was clad in quite as startling a fashion, but in exactly the opposite way. Johnny’s coat was long, very long, while his was short—so short as to make it look as if it had originally belonged to a boy about half his size. His vest was buttoned snug to the chin, to conceal the ravages made by dirt on his shirt-front, while his necktie was made of the very narrowest and most brilliant red ribbon that could be found.
It would have been impossible to cut anything from the bottom of his trousers, for the very good reason that they were already so short as to give them the appearance of trying to crawl up his legs to get out of sight; but in his eyes the high polish of his shoes had a better chance of being seen. Ben’s face and hands were as clean as Johnny’s, but he had put none of the candle-grease on his hair, although he had smoothed it with water until two small streams were trickling down either side of his face, giving plenty of employment to his hands, as he tried to prevent it from running down his neck.
Paul looked on at these preparations with the greatest surprise; and when his friends announced that they were ready, and that he was to accompany them, he followed without a word, awed by the general magnificence.
It was not a long walk from the hogshead home to the house which Mrs. Green proposed to turn into a place where meals and lodgings could be procured on a limited scale; but neither Ben nor Johnny lost any opportunity of stopping to gaze in at the lighted windows that served as mirrors, in order to make sure that their attire had not been disarranged in any way by their rapid walk. And when they stood in front of the door, it seemed to Paul as if they never would get ready to ring the bell, so much time did they spend in making sure that their fine toilets were quite in order, and the general effect satisfactory.
But they did ring the bell at last, and when Nelly came to the door there was no mistaking the fact that their appearance was striking in the highest degree; for the girl stood regarding them with so much astonishment that it was some time before she could invite them to walk in.
As Ben told Dickey Spry, when they got home that night, it “jest took the eyes outer Mother Green an’ Nelly to see them lookin’ as soft as silk an’ fine as fiddlers.”
After the embarrassment caused by their costumes had passed away in a degree, although Nelly did not seem to recover from her surprise during the entire evening, Mrs. Green proceeded to the business on hand by showing the boys two rooms, furnished with no pretensions to elegance, but as neat as they were bare, which she told them she would let to four boys at the moderate price of two dollars and a half each per week, including meals and washing.
To Paul the difference was so great between the place and the one they were then occupying, that he was anxious to go there at once, and the others were quite as eager as he was. Ben was sure that he could induce Dickey to make the fourth in that perfection of boarding-houses, as he knew it would prove to be; and in case he should not succeed in convincing Master Spry that it would be better for him to live there rather than in his hogshead, he promised to use all his eloquence on Mopsey Dowd, or some other equally eligible party.
Thus it was decided that the boys should change their home on the following day, and all hands were remarkably well pleased; Mrs. Green because four boarders wouldbring in a weekly amount of ten dollars, and the boys because at last they were to live like other people.
It would not be a difficult matter to move, for two coats, rather the worse for wear, and three old tomato cans were all the property they had to bring; Paul’s tops, which constituted his baggage, could be carried in the pocket of his jacket without any trouble.
When they got back to the hogshead that night, and told Dickey of the important change they were about to make, he read them a very severe lesson on the sinfulness of extravagance. It was perhaps a trifle more pointed than it would have been if he had not just been made bankrupt by the perfidy of a friend. But it was both time and labor thrown away to try to induce him to become a fourth boarder at Mrs. Green’s. He positively refused to listen to the scheme, after it had been described to him, and the conversation ended by his buying back his old home at the original price, agreeing to pay ten cents each week as soon as he should be once more firmly established in business.
That night Paul had an attack of homesickness; but, being very tired, he went to sleep before it became so bad as to be noticed by his friends.
On the following morning Paul went about his work quite as if he had been accustomed to that sort of thing forsome time; and owing to the fact that the papers contained an account of a terrible railroad disaster, trade was remarkably good with him and Johnny, and correspondingly bad with Ben. Three times during the morning they sold out their entire stock, and Paul was so excited by the rush, as well as the amount of money they were making, that he quite forgot his troubles.
When dinner-time came, Paul and Johnny had cleared two dollars and ninety cents, with a fair prospect of making as much more in the afternoon, since additional particulars of the accident were being received hourly. Ben had only made thirty cents; but he and Johnny had always been in partnership, dividing equally the profits of both, and the same arrangement held good after Paul was taken into the concern.
It was decided that Ben should give up his business of boot-blackening that afternoon, and sell papers with the others, so he carried his box to a friend who had a fancy-goods stand in the door-way of an unoccupied store, where he left it until he should finish his day’s work. Each paper that Paul sold that day had the same advertisement offering a reward for any tidings of him, but since he never looked at what his wares contained, save to read the head-lines in large letters so as to get an idea what he should cry out, it did him as little good as if it had never been there.
Fortunately for the boys, as the demand for papers was so great and continued so long, Mrs. Green had set eight o’clock as the hour when they would have dinner. By this plan she would have plenty of time to cook it, and all hands would be through work and possessed of plenty of leisure for eating. Therefore they continued the trade in news until half-past seven, and then hurried for the last time to their hogshead, where they found Dickey Spry eating his supper of crackers and cheese.
The process of finding out exactly how much they had made was a long and difficult one for both Ben and Johnny. Each time they counted it over it was with a different result. When they were very warm, almost angry, and quite positive that the fault of the difference in reckoning was in the money itself, Paul took it upon himself to find out the amount of cash on hand.
Four dollars and eighty-three cents was the grand total of their earnings that day, and all hands were pleasantly surprised by the prosperity that had beamed upon them.
Of course they could not expect such a result except on days when the papers contained some important news; but business would be sure to be good on the following morning, because then all the details of the accident would have been received. After that perhaps Ben’sbusiness would have an impetus given it by some friendly shower.
At the end of the week they would owe Mrs. Green seven dollars and a half for the board of the firm, and Ben’s proposition was unanimously adopted that they pay four dollars of that amount in advance, retaining the eighty-three cents as a working capital for their business the next day.
There was no attempt made to put on any better appearance than usual when they started for Mrs. Green’s that night, for now that they were members of her family. They would be obliged to go there just as they were when they finished their work, and they might as well show themselves as they would be on future occasions. Ben attempted to take quite an elaborate and affecting farewell of Master Spry, but that young gentleman refused utterly anything more than the ordinary expressions of parting.
“You’ll be back in less’n a month, wantin’ to live here agin,” he said, as, seated in the farthest corner of the hogshead, he looked out frowningly at their preparations for departure. “You can’t swell very long at the rate of two dollars’n half a week, an’ you’ll be glad to crawl in here agin.”
Ben thought that it was not exactly wise to say very much against this assertion of Dickey’s, for it was justpossible that he was right, and the less that was said about the matter then the easier it would be to take up their abode there again in case they were obliged to.
Each of the three boys took a tomato can, while Ben and Johnny carried, in addition, the coats in which they had arrayed themselves the night before, and in this manner they started for their new boarding-house. They were late; but Mrs. Green, knowing of the activity in the newspaper market, had expected they would be, and had made her preparations accordingly.
Paul felt wonderfully relieved at being able to wash himself with soap once more, and to have a towel to use, while it seemed as if Ben and Johnny never would make themselves ready to go to the table, so interested were they in the very “swell” thing of combing their hair before a looking-glass.
“I tell yer it’s high!” said Ben, emphatically, as he took up the towel, and then wiped his hands on the skirts of his coat lest he should soil it—“it’s high, an’ if we keep on at this rate we shall jest spread ourselves all over the block before we git through with it.”
Johnny shook his head sagely, still unable to stop combing his hair in front of the glass, as if he wondered where all this luxury would lead them, while Paul contrasted this poorly furnished room, which his companions thought somagnificent, with what he had been accustomed to at home.
Mrs. Green succeeded in getting her boarders away from the contemplation of their surroundings by reminding them, in a very forcible voice, that everything would be spoiled if they waited much longer. They took their places at the table, and Ben and Johnny were in a dream of surprise during the meal, which was, as Ben afterwards told Mopsey, “one of the swellest dinners ever got up in New York City.”
After they had eaten as much as they wanted—and it seemed as if they never would get enough, so good did it taste—Nelly showed the boarders through the rooms, which were above a store. There were two floors divided into five rooms, and an attic which could be of no use except as a store-room, because of the fact that it was hardly more than five feet from the floor to the roof.
Ben was highly delighted with everything he saw, Paul expressed neither surprise nor pleasure, and Johnny was not enthusiastic until he saw the attic. The moment he was taken there, a gigantic idea seemed to have come to him very suddenly, and he stood in the centre of the place almost too much excited to give words to the thoughts that crowded upon him.
“Fellers!” he cried, and he repeated it twice before hecould say any more—“fellers! do you know what we can do up here?”
Now it is possible that both Ben and Paul could have thought of very many things they could do in a space as large as that attic; but since they did not know what Johnny referred to, they shook their heads negatively, and waited for him to tell them what it was that had so excited him.
“We can jest fix things up here, an’ have a theatre—a reg’lar theatre, an’ make more money than—than—well, all we want.”
And then in a very excited way he went on to tell them just what could be done to transform the place into as beautiful a theatre, save in one or two unimportant details, as could be found in the city.
Nelly stood by, looking first at one and then the other of the boys in mute surprise, while Paul, delighted at the idea of making a large sum of money at one bold stroke, and being saved thereby from weary days of waiting and working before he could return to his home, listened attentively.
“FELLERS! DO YOU KNOW WHAT WE CAN DO UP HERE?”
Ben agreed with all his partner said, but he advised that Mrs. Green be consulted as to the scheme before they went very far in deciding what work they would be obliged to do in order to transform the place from a rather dreary attic into a theatre. It then occurred to Johnny that Mrs. Green might object to such a plan, and hehastened down-stairs to consult with her at once. After considerable argument, during which he set forth as prominently as possible the enormous amount of money that could be earned, of which she should have a fair share, Johnny succeeded in gaining Mrs. Green’s consent to the plan. After that the boys went to bed, almost too much excited at the prospect of being managers and proprietors of a theatre to be able to sleep.
The particular circle of society in which Ben and Johnny moved was shaken to its very centre by the news which was whispered from one to the other on the day after those young gentlemen and Paul had taken up their abode at Mrs. Green’s.
Early that morning the most exciting topic of conversation had been Master Spry’s misfortune and Tim Dooley’s perfidy; and that had hardly begun to be commented upon when the news spread that Ben and Johnny, since the coming of their guest, who was evidently a suspicious sort of a person, as was shown by his clothes and his entire ignorance of the slang of the street, were no longer proud of their neat little bit of real estate, but had made a change which would probably be the means of their financial ruin. That they had been so extravagant as to engage rooms at a regular boarding-house, where they were to spend their substance on three square meals each day, seemed like a reckless disregard of money; and the price which they wereto pay for board was stated at various sums from five to ten dollars per week. But that was not the only bit of wonderful news.
Jimmy Sullivan stated—and he was supported by several others as the time wore on—that Johnny himself had told him that they were to start a regular theatre, and had already engaged a hall, which would be converted into a first-class place of amusement as soon as possible. This would have been regarded simply as a rumor started for the purpose of injuring the credit of these young gentlemen, had it not come so directly from one of the parties concerned, and must therefore be true.
Business was in a great measure suspended for that day, and little knots of boys gathered at the street corners, eagerly discussing the news which threatened to destroy the credit, for a time at least, of two merchants who were well known in boot-blackening and news-selling circles.
It was fully understood by the majority of those who discussed this startling intelligence, that it was only three weeks since the firm of Treat & Jones had bought a house on credit, and that there was still a mortgage of twenty cents upon it in favor of the now bankrupt merchant, Mr. Dickey Spry. To be sure, Messrs. Treat & Jones had taken in a new partner very recently; but there were those who knew that this new boy had only brought to the firm three centsand two tops, which could not bring in any very large amount of money, even though a cash customer was found for them at once. It was very clear that this new partner was more of a drawback than a help to the firm, and the mystery seemed greater than ever.
Dickey Spry, on being interviewed on the subject, assumed a wise air and shook his head gravely; which was very much as if he had said that he was sorry to see two promising boys ruining themselves as rapidly as these two were. Regarding the mortgage which he held on the hogshead home he refused to say anything, save that he had bought it back; and those who were better informed regarding transactions in real estate at once came to the conclusion that, having foreseen the coming ruin of his debtors, he had foreclosed the mortgage in order to save what he could.
Owing to the possibility of his becoming a boarder at Mrs. Green’s, and a partner in the theatrical enterprise, Mopsey Dowd refused to express any opinion on the matter; but it was said by those who called upon him that he turned the handle of his pea-nut roaster nervously and quickly whenever the subject was mentioned.
Meanwhile those who had caused all these speculations and doubts were doing their best to sell their goods, and reaping almost as rich a harvest as they had the dayprevious. They could not fail to notice the singular actions of their friends, and also that whenever they approached three or four who were talking earnestly, the conversation would cease entirely, the boys either walking away or maintaining a positive silence until they had passed.
It caused them no little surprise, this singular behavior on the part of their friends; but there was too much money to be made for them to try to understand it then, and they continued the sale of their papers, while the others speculated gloomily as to the future of the rash youths who would change their positions in life by such hazardous ventures.
As a matter of fact, Johnny was the one who was responsible for all this excitement, since it was he who had told of the theatrical enterprise. He had been in such a state of mental excitement since he had first thought of the scheme, that it was almost an impossibility for him to get along ten minutes without speaking of it to some one; and when he told the story he was more apt to speak of the theatre as he hoped they could arrange it than as it would probably be. But it must not be supposed that either Ben or Paul were indifferent to the matter; they were almost as much excited about it as Johnny was, though they were not as eager to consult others regarding it.
As has been said, trade was very good that morning, andwhen they went home for a lunch, which, by-the-way, they thought was much better than any of the regular dinners they had been buying down town, even Mrs. Green was disposed to think that there might possibly be some chance that they could do as Johnny had proposed.
It had been their intention to call on Dickey Spry that evening, for the purpose of trying to cheer him a little in his troubles; but they were too eager to accomplish their new scheme to think of spending their time anywhere but in that famous attic, which was to afford an opportunity for the display of their histrionic talents as well as to bring in so much wealth.
It was just as well that they did not adhere to their original plan, for when Ben explained to Master Spry the reason why they could not keep their engagement with him, he gruffly told them that it was just as well, for he had already made up his mind to go to Jersey City in search of the defaulter, Tim Dooley. Therefore they were not troubled with any pangs of conscience because they were leaving Dickey to mourn alone while they planned the transformation of the attic, and their dinner was eaten with a celerity that astonished their landlady. Johnny took upon himself the duties of architect, and, considering the difficulties in the way of such labor, the others were not unwilling that he should hold the office.
Master Jones found that there was a vast deal of difference between thinking of what he would like to do in the way of making improvements, and actually planning how to make them. He knew that he wanted a stage at one end of the attic, but when the others waited to hear how he could go to work to build it with the limited amount of capital at his disposal, he was almost at a loss to know what to say or do.
In order that they might set about their work understandingly, Nelly produced what had originally been a tape-measure one foot in length. It had seen such hard usage, however, that only about eight inches remained. With this the amateur architect set about a portion of his work, which was to him very painful.
He decided first that it would be a useless waste of material to build a stage entirely across one end of the attic, since they would not be crowded from lack of room, owing to the small number of performers, and after a great amount of pacing back and forth, as well as mental calculation, he drew two chalk lines at supposed equal distances from the walls. Between these lines he measured with his fragment of a tape-measure, and found that it was exactly thirty times the length of the tape. Thirty times eight inches was, therefore, the length of his proposed stage, or, more properly speaking, his platform, and he seated himself, with alook of perplexity on his face and a remarkably small piece of lead-pencil in his mouth, to figure up the grand total of inches. He could multiply the cipher easily enough, for he was positive that the answer would be the same, however large the multiplier might be; but the question of how much eight times three was troubled him greatly.
After trying in vain to arrive at the correct result by the process of multiplication, he, in his despair, was about to resort to the tiresome expedient of counting the number of inches on the tape-measure thirty times over, when Paul astonished him considerably by giving the result without even using the pencil and paper.
“How nice that is!” said Johnny, with a sigh of relief, as he wiped from his brow the perspiration that had been forced out by his mental exertions, and he began to realize that a knowledge of the multiplication table was very useful to a person in any line of business.
Paul further informed him that two hundred and forty inches were twenty feet; and then he proceeded with greater confidence to calculate the width, which he at first decided should be twelve feet, but afterwards changed to six when Ben suggested that they would require too much lumber if they had it so wide.
“MULTIPLICATION IS VEXATION.”
After it was settled that the platform should be raised two feet from the floor, and Paul had figured up the exactnumber of square feet of lumber which would be necessary to cover the proposed space, they commenced a serious discussion as to where the material could be procured.
Ben concluded, finally, that he would call upon a carpenter whom he knew, from having slept in his shop on the shavings several cold nights in the winter when he could find no other shelter, and thus that question was put aside for the time being.
It would be necessary to have some scenery, and that Johnny had already arranged for in his mind. He had decided that it could be made by pasting old newspapers together, hanging them on strings, and coloring them with red, green, and black crayons. For this purpose stout cord was necessary, and Ben went out and bought some, thereby giving tangible form to their enterprise, for this cord was really the only thing they had purchased towards effecting the desired transformation.
Their next step was to gather up all the old newspapers they could find in the house, and Nelly set about making some flour paste, while Johnny went in search of the crayons. Thus they made considerable progress in their enterprise that night; but it yet lacked a system, and, what was more important, capital. In order to remedy this, Johnny called for a strict account of the cash on hand, since they had been too busy to reckon up that day’s sales.
By common consent Paul was chosen book-keeper, so far as figuring up the different amounts, whether of money or material desired, was concerned, and, thanks to his knowledge of arithmetic, it was not many minutes before he informed them that the capital of eighty-three cents with which they had commenced that day’s business had been increased to three dollars and ninety-five cents—a clear profit of three dollars and twelve cents. Out of this, one dollar and a half was given to Mrs. Green towards the payment of the balance that would be due on their board bill, one dollar was set apart as the working capital of the theatre, and sixty-two cents was to be used in business the following day.
They had hardly settled these financial questions when Mrs. Green’s voice from the floor below announced that Master Mopsey Dowd had called to see them, and was already on his way up-stairs.
If Master Dowd had had any doubts as to the desirability of becoming one of Mrs. Green’s boarders, they were all dispelled when he saw that attic, every timber of which seemed to be begging to be converted into a theatre. In fact Master Dowd was so impressed with the advantages of that place as a theatre that he did not even speak to his friends until he had paced up and down the room, dreaming of the fame that might be achieved there.
Already the pea-nut merchant seemed to have put allthoughts of his roaster and his wares far from him, and to fancy that he was before an audience of his particular and critical friends, welcomed by them as an artist of whom all the world might be proud.
He was recalled from these pleasant dreams by stepping on a tack that penetrated his shoe at a place where a patch was much needed, and then he appeared to see for the first time his friends, who were anxiously waiting for him to complete his survey of the room.
“It’s a stunner!” he said, patronizingly, to Ben, as he seated himself on the floor with easy grace, to remove the tack from his foot—“it’s a stunner! an’ we can jest set the boys wild if we can play somethin’ with plenty of murder in it.”
“Then you’ll come in with us?” asked Johnny, delighted at the praise of this boy, whom he was anxious to have for a partner because of the influence he wielded, and also because it had been whispered among their immediate circle of friends, not many months before, that Master Dowd had fixed up a play that “laid all over” anything that the world had ever yet seen at the Bowery theatre.
“Yes, I’ll join yer,” said Mopsey, impressively, looking around as if he expected to see every face light up with joy at his decision—“I’ll join yer, an’ I’ll come here to board to-morrow.”
Then, as was perfectly proper, this new partner was informed of the amount of cash capital on hand; and after Paul had ascertained that their dollar represented thirty-three and one-third cents as the share of each one, Mopsey generously counted out thirty-four cents, disdaining any credit for the extra two-thirds of a cent. Thus it was that the firm of Treat, Jones, Weston & Dowd sprang into existence.
When it became known among that portion of the mercantile world of which Ben and Johnny were members that Mopsey Dowd, the pea-nut merchant of Fulton Ferry, had connected himself with the theatrical enterprise about which so many comments had been made, the matter put on an entirely different aspect, and it was at once shrewdly guessed that he had put in the greater portion of the working capital.
There no longer seemed to be any doubt as to the success of the enterprise, and Ben, Johnny, and Paul found their regular business seriously interfered with by those of their acquaintances who were anxious to become actors. Had they given a position to each of their friends who asked for one, they would have been obliged to have given the entertainment without an audience, for all their acquaintances would have been employed in the theatre.
Master Dowd had foreseen this difficulty, and before he had been a member of the firm five minutes he decidedthat no actors outside the firm should be employed, and that Nelly should do something towards the entertainment, probably in the way of a song. As to ticket-sellers, door-keepers, ushers, and such officers, Mopsey felt reasonably certain that Mrs. Green would consent to take her knitting and fill all the positions by sitting at the door, where she could collect the money for admissions, keep the audience in order, and keep a general eye to the safety of her house, all at the same time.
Thus, when any one pleaded old friendship, or services rendered, as a reason why they should be admitted as members of the company, everything was made plain and pleasant by referring to the mutual agreement that prevented any more actors, however brilliant they thought they were, from being engaged.
The public, or a certain portion of it, were more than anxious to know what the opening play was to be, and many inquiries were made of the first three of the partners, even before they had succeeded in procuring the material for the stage. Finally they spoke to Mopsey about it, for they thought the curiosity of their expected patrons should be satisfied.
Owing to its being generally understood that Mopsey was an author, making dramatic literature a specialty, the other partners, advised by Nelly Green, had left the importantquestion of what the opening play should be entirely to the pea-nut merchant. When he was questioned on the subject by his partners, he refused to give them any information save that he was thinking up something which would go ahead of anything yet written, and that he would make the result of his thoughts known in due time.
Meanwhile the boys continued their regular business, for they had wisely concluded that it would not do to let the theatrical enterprise interfere with that which they knew would provide them a living, until the new scheme had been shown a success.
Paul had become quite proficient in the work of selling newspapers, and although he had not overcome the feeling of homesickness which would creep over him every night, he was becoming more reconciled to his lot, because each day’s work seemed to bring him nearer to the attainment of his object.
Ben and Johnny had forgotten their plan of writing a letter to some of Paul’s friends, or of proposing that he should do it, because of the great scheme of the theatre; and if either of them thought of it after it had first been spoken of, it was only as a useless labor, since, as soon as their place of amusement was open, they would all have money enough to go anywhere they wanted to.
Business had been as good as they could have expected.Of course they did not have such a rush as they had been favored with during the first two days that Paul was in partnership with them, because the news was not so exciting; but they did so well that their board was paid for a week before they had been at Mrs. Green’s four days, and they had begun to think of adding to the theatrical fund.
Ben had heard of a small lot of timber which could be purchased for one dollar and a half, and Johnny insisted that each member of the firm be called upon for an addition of forty cents to his regular investment, which demand was promptly met. In four days the work on the scenery had advanced so well that Johnny felt sure enough papers had been pasted together, at least until after the stage had been built, and the timber was purchased and carried into the attic at once. It was no slight work to build the stage to their satisfaction, and the four labored hard two entire evenings before it was completed. But when it was up, they were fully repaid for all they had done, so thoroughly business-like did it look, and such a theatrical appearance it gave to the attic.
To be sure, one end was a few inches higher than the other, and there were not boards enough to floor the space completely over; but the first defect could and would be remedied by the scenery, and the second could be gottenover by a little extra care when they walked. Besides, Mopsey was not just certain but that those very holes could be utilized by him in his construction of the play for some very startling and novel effects.
The painting of the scenery was an artistic bit of work, which Johnny was certain he and Nelly, with perhaps some trifling assistance from Paul, could do in such a manner as would delight their patrons and cover themselves with credit. Therefore that portion of the work was left entirely in their hands one evening, while Ben and Mopsey started out to call on Dickey Spry for the purpose of consulting with him as to how they could procure material with which to build seats, for Dickey was supposed to be quite an authority in such matters.
Very little had been seen of Master Spry by this firm of dramatic managers, authors, and actors since the night on which he had purchased his old home. He had gone back to the business of blackening boots, as he had said he should; but he was plying his trade in Jersey City, in the hope that he might learn of the whereabouts of the boy who had ruined him. Therefore it was only right that they should call upon him, because of their friendship, even if they had not wanted his advice. With this twofold purpose in view they started out, fearing that they should not find him at home.
But their fears were groundless, for when they reached the hogshead, Master Spry was discovered at a feast of herrings and crackers. He was not a boy who indulged in any useless conversation; and when he saw who his visitors were, he welcomed them by passing to each a herring and a cracker, which was really more eloquent than words.
While he was eating, Ben glanced around, in order to see what changes the new occupant had made. The only unfamiliar thing he saw was a large sheet of brown paper tacked up at the end of the hogshead. On this paper was printed the following notice, the letters having evidently been made by a chewed stick, with liquid blacking considerably diluted with water:
Text of the note[Go to text version.]
It is impossible to say what good Master Spry thought he could effect by having this notice put up in his own home, where no one would see it but his friends, who knew all the particulars; but it seemed to afford him a great deal of satisfaction to look at it, which Ben concluded was the reason why he had done it.
“Hain’t heard nothin’ ’bout Tim?” asked Ben, after he and Mopsey had spelled the notice out with considerable difficulty, and many misgivings as to whether Jersey should be spelled with a G or a J.
Dickey shook his head and tried to sigh; but he had such a large piece of herring in his month that he did not dare to attempt it.
“I don’t ’xpect I ever shall,” he said, sadly, as soon as he had swallowed enough of the fish to admit of his speaking plainly. “I’ve offered to give ten cents, jest as I’ve got it there, if anybody will tell me where he is; but I don’t hear nothin’ of him.”
Ben and Mopsey sat for a few moments in silence, as if to better express their sympathy, and then the latter asked,
“How’s biz, Dick?”
“Well, it ain’t so awful good, nor it ain’t so dreadful bad,” was the non-committal reply. “I s’pose I shall get along; but I wish I could git a holt of Tim Dooley; then I’d be pretty well fixed.”
The visitors looked as if they thought it would be of very little advantage to Dickey if he should succeed in finding the defaulter, and Dickey said, quickly, as if they had spoken their doubts,
“If I can catch him, I’ll make him pay me back somehow, whether he’s got it or not.”
It was rather a rash assertion; but Dickey spoke so confidently that his visitors thought it best not to argue the question, and Ben concluded that it was about time to proceed with the business for which they had come. After he had explained just what it was they needed for the completion of their theatre, during which time Dickey sat rubbing his chin, the personification of wisdom, the two waited for Master Spry to give them the benefit of his knowledge.
It was some time before he condescended to speak; but when he did, it was slowly and emphatically, to show that his mind was fully made up, and could not be changed.
“I know where there’s a lot of boards that I could trade for, an’ you could put some blocks under each end of them, an’ have the best kind of seats. But, yer see, I’ve bin thinkin’ that you oughter taken me inter company with yer, for I can act all round anybody you’ve got in that crowd. Now I’ll git all ther seats yer want, an’ carry ’em up there, if you’ll let me come in with yer.”
“HOW’S BIZ, DICK?”
It was a sudden proposal, and the two did not know whatto say for some moments. It was gratifying to them, because Master Spry was very cautious in making any venture, and that he was anxious to become a partner showed that the public looked with favor upon the scheme, or Dickey Spry would have been the last boy to propose partnership.
“But each one of us have put in seventy-three cents,” said Mopsey, hesitatingly, after he had thought the matter over for several moments.
“An’ s’posin’ I git as many as twenty long boards, an’ the blocks to put under ’em, won’t that be a good deal more’n that much money?”
Judging from the price they had paid for the timber with which the stage had been built, they knew that Dickey’s offer was a good one; and after that young gentleman had gone out into the yard in order to allow them to discuss the matter privately, Mopsey said, as they called him back,
“We’re willin’ to ’gree to it, an’ take you in with us; but of course we’ve got to see what Johnny an’ Polly say to it, an’ if you’ll come over to the house with us, we’ll fix the thing right up quick.”
By way of reply, Dickey jammed his hat more firmly on his head, and extinguished the candle—which actions his visitors understood to mean that he would accompany them.
During the walk Ben was anxious to know where and how Master Spry was going to procure this lumber which he offered for an interest in the concern; but Dickey did not hesitate to say that he would not tell them until after the question as to whether he was to be a partner or not had been settled, lest they should take advantage of the information, and then refuse to make him an equal owner.
This seemed to cast a doubt upon their honesty; but they did not take offence at it, because Master Spry was suffering from the wickedness of a boy whom he had trusted, and it was only natural that he should be suspicious.
When they arrived at Mrs. Green’s, and ascended to the attic which was the scene of so much industry, they found that the amateur artists had made great progress in their work, although it was shown more by the dense coloring that had been put on the newspaper scenery than from any very fine effects.
Johnny had two wide strips of paper, completely covered with patches of black and green, that were to be placed either side of the stage where the audience would see them, as one sees the wings at a more pretentious theatre. He pointed to his work with evident satisfaction, and assumed an injured look when neither one of the new-comers understood that it was a very fine representation of a forest.
Paul and Nelly were industriously engaged in coloringtwo other wings with alternate stripes of red and blue; but their work was not sufficiently advanced to render it possible to form any idea as to what it was, and they refused to give any information until they had finished it.
After the coloring of the scenery had been admired, and Dickey had examined with a critical eye all that had been done, Ben stated to Johnny and Paul the proposition which Master Spry had made, declaring himself in favor of accepting it.
Of course, after the advantages of this new connection had been explained, the artists were perfectly willing to admit Mr. Spry as a partner, and he was informed of the fact, with the intimation that it was necessary to have the seats there as quickly as possible.
Dickey promised to begin his labor on the following morning; and then, while the others worked on the scenery, he related to them the success he should make as an actor, provided he was given a part which admitted of his carrying a sword and shield.
Dickey Spry kept his word, so far as having the timber for the seats at the theatre was concerned; for so anxious was he to fulfil his part of the contract that he devoted all the next afternoon and evening to the work.
He made arrangements with Mrs. Green, whereby he could get into the house during the afternoon while she was attending to her fruit-stand, and by nine o’clock in the evening he had made seats enough to accommodate at least two hundred boys, providing, of course, that they were willing to stow themselves in snugly.
After the work was done, there was not a member of the firm but thought they had a valuable acquisition in the person of Mr. Spry and his timber, and they listened with more attention to his suggestions than they had on the previous evening, when it was possible that he would not carry out his portion of the contract as fully as they desired.
When they stopped work that evening they surveyed their theatre with a great deal of pride; for it was now so nearly completed that any one could tell, at a very searching glance, what it was intended for. The scenery was all in its place, and Nelly had made a quantity of rosettes out of tissue-paper of various colors, which were to be fastened as ornaments on the rough, unpainted boards.
All that remained to be done was to make the curtain, and hang it so that it could be rolled up and down, and to arrange a place for the candles that were to serve as foot-lights.
What that curtain should be made of had been a vexing question for the partners to settle, and many and serious had been the discussions regarding it. Ben had insisted that they ought to buy white cloth enough to make a regular curtain; but, on considering that proposition carefully, they had discovered that it would cost nearly three dollars, and they hardly felt warranted in going to so much expense.
Finally, it was decided to buy large sheets of stout brown paper, which could be both pasted and sewed together, in order to make sure that they would not pull apart by their own weight, and then these were to be ornamented in some artistic manner by each one of the party.
By the time this important question was settled, it was so late that no more work could be done that night; but before Dickey departed for his hogshead home there was an emphatic demand made upon Mr. Dowd for some particulars as to the play which he had promised to have in readiness for the opening night. It was then Wednesday; and since the first performance was to be given on the following Saturday evening, it did surely seem as if the actors should know what they were to do on that important occasion.
“It will be all right,” Mopsey said, so decidedly that they would have been obliged to be satisfied, even if he had not added, “Friday night we’ll all come here an’ practise, an’ then I’ll tell you all about it.”
On the following day business was so good that it was very late before any of the partners could get to work on their theatrical enterprise, and if their profits had not been so large, they would have deeply regretted the delay. But they worked the faster when they did get the chance; and while the others were interested in putting together the curtain, which bid fair to be a marvel of art, Ben labored industriously at making the tickets.
An acquaintance of his had a large lot of card-board clippings, which he had gathered from time to time as he delivered papers in a printing-office, and these Ben hadpurchased, with the understanding that he was to give free admission to the entertainment for them during three evenings, providing, of course, that the theatre remained open to the public that length of time. From these odds and ends Nelly had cut about a hundred tickets during the afternoon while she was in charge of the fruit-stand, and these Ben was converting into orders for admission by printing on them, in rather a shaky hand, and with a new lead-pencil he had bought for that express purpose, the following: