CHAPTER VIII.
THE ZOÖLOGICAL COLLECTION.
Even if the bogus collector of admissions to Central Park had dealt him a much heavier blow than really was the case, Josiah would have forgotten about the injury entirely, in the amazement and delight with which he viewed the inmates of the monkey-cage.
Never but once before had he seen any of these long-tailed animals; and that single occasion was when an organ-grinder, with such a companion, visited Berry’s Corner, to the intense delight of the younger portion of the population, and the annoyance of their elders.
But that monkey, held by a chain, and buckled into a coat so small that he could hardly breathe, was an entirely different sort of an animal from those who were revelling in the semi-freedom of the cage; and it seemed to Josiah as if he would never weary of looking at them.
With a reckless disregard of the amount of money on hand, and an utter forgetfulness of the presents which he wished to carry home to his parents, Josiah purchased peanuts and cookies for the purpose of feeding the occupants of the monkey-house, until there was every danger his supply of ready cash would be entirely exhausted.
What seemed to him quite remarkable was the fact that so many of the animals resembled certain inhabitants of Berry’s Corner.
More than once he called the attention of his friends to a striking likeness between these creatures and some of his acquaintances, and repeated over and over again that he would be willing to cut his visit very much shorter than had originally been intended, if by so doing his father and mother could see the wonderful antics of the agile animals.
Bob and Tom were forced to literally drag him away from the entrancing scene, in order to prevent complete bankruptcy; and even though not less than two hours had been spent in this particular building, it seemed to him as if he had hardly entered before he was outside once more.
His friends had led him in turn to where the elephants, buffaloes, and bears could be seen, and at each enclosure he made the same remark:—
“I’d rather stay in the monkey-house, than go all over this park a dozen times;” and since their sole purpose was to afford him amusement, it became necessary to allow him to return to the spot where, in his mind, was centred the chief attraction of Central Park.
Not until nearly night-fall was he willing to drag himself away from this delightful occupation; and even then it is barely possible he might have made some protest against departure, but for the fact that the buildings were being closed for the evening.
With a long-drawn sigh he walked slowly on with his companions, and as the distance between himself and the prototypes of Berry’s Corner’s most distinguished citizens was increased, he began to think of his rapidly decreasing capital.
“I tell you it costs somethin’ to live in the city,” he said, instinctively placing his hand over the shrunken pocket-book. “Why, at home I can’t get a chance to spend a dollar in a month: but here it seems as if it was pourin’ out all the time. I don’t know what’ll become of me if I stay a great while.”
“When a feller’s on a spree money goes pretty fast,” Master Bartlett replied philosophically. “But you’ve still got the woodchuck skins to sell, an’ they oughter bring a good price. We’ll tend to ’em in the mornin’.”
“It’ll come kinder hard on me if I don’t get somewhere near what I’ve been figgerin’ on,” Josiah said thoughtfully, “’cause I’ve been goin’ it mighty strong since I struck this town.”
“You mustn’t bother your head ’bout that. You don’t come down here so very often, an’ can ’ford to blow yourself pretty well when you do strike the city. A hundred years from now it won’t make any difference.”
“I ain’t lookin’ ahead so far as that,” Josiah replied grimly. “The hundred-year part of it’ll be all right; but I’m thinkin’ ’bout the balance of this week.”
“We’ll see you through;” and then Tom dismissed the matter, as if advancing his friend several dollars would be nothing more than an ordinary business transaction to which he was thoroughly well accustomed.
The ride down town in the elevated cars was not as pleasant as the one in the morning had been, owing to the fact that it was now dark, and there was less to be seen, while the visitor was decidedly tired.
The walk from the station to Baker’s Court seemed unusually long, and the supper, even though it was served in the stuffy kitchen, was appreciated to its fullest extent.
Had Josiah consulted his own inclination, he would have retired immediately after the evening meal was brought to a close; but Bob and Tom were eager their friend should view Brooklyn Bridge in the night, when the lights of the city formed a brilliant background, and almost reluctantly Josiah allowed himself to be conducted from the court once more.
“By gracious! If I get used up walkin’ ’round havin’ a good time, what must it be for that little match-girl, who’s on her feet all day, an’ with not half enough to eat?”
“Well, it’s tough, of course,” Tom said thoughtfully; “but there’s a good many of us got the same kind of a snap, an’ I don’t reckon she’s any worse off than lots I could pick up.”
“S’pose she’s had any supper to-night?”
“Now see here, Josiah,” and Tom spoke very decidedly. “It’s no kind of use for you to spoil your good time thinkin’ ’bout her. She’ll get along jest the same’s before you come, an’ won’t have it any harder.”
“I s’pose that’s so,” Josiah said half to himself; “you see, I never thought there could be so much trouble in the city, where it seems as if everybody has money.”
“There’s a good many of ’em ain’t got any, an’ that’s a fact. If you’re so stuck on seein’ Sadie agin, we’ll make it our business to flash her up when there’s nothin’ on hand; but as I said this mornin’, she’d better stay where she is while we’re busy.”
Josiah realized that his friends were not at all pleased by his frequent reference to the little match-girl, and he remained silent; but there was beginning to spring up in his mind a plan which he hoped might be carried into execution.
It is just possible that the friends of the young gentleman from Berry’s Corner made a mistake in introducing him to the Brooklyn Bridge during the evening, or perhaps he was too tired to appreciate that wonderful structure; but certain it is, he did not evince the surprise or admiration which Tom and Bob had expected, and even complained of the distance, saying, after they had walked with him across and back, that he would have “liked it a good deal better if it wasn’t more’n half as long.”
Upon their return to Baker’s Court it was not necessary for Mrs. Bartlett to urge the party to retire.
There was nothing the visitor could think of that would be so refreshing as a bed just then; and he believed no pleasure could be greater than that of being able to lie down in his own room, with the knowledge that his mother was within call, even though by such change in his surroundings his visit to the city would be materially shortened.
When Josiah awakened next morning the first thought in his mind was that of the money spent during the previous day, his second as to whether Sadie had had any breakfast, and the third, regarding the amount he would receive for the fur.
“We’re goin’ down to Coney Island to-day,” Bob cried as his guest awakened him. “Tom an’ me’ll see to the tickets, an’ we’re countin’ on the biggest kind of a time.”
“But I must go up to the fur store, else I’ll spend all my money, an’ won’t have any left to buy presents for father an’ mother.”
“Well, we’ll do that right after breakfast,” Tom replied.
An hour later the three boys left Baker’s Court, Josiah carrying the fruits of his labor as a trapper closely wrapped in an old newspaper, and feeling just a trifle uneasy about entering the city shops.
It was hardly probable the establishment would be open at such an early hour; and, knowing they had plenty of time at their disposal, Tom proposed to go around Broadway to Printing House Square, where he had agreed to meet Billy Foss, who was to accompany them to Coney Island.
Master Foss was a small merchant, both in point of stature and his transactions in the newspaper line; an industrious one also, as could be told from the fact that, although intending to take a day’s vacation, he was devoting the earlier hours of the morning to business.
“It’s all right,” he said when Tom explained that they were going up Broadway before starting on the excursion. “I wanted to sell a few papers so’s all the day wouldn’t be wasted, an’ I’ll jest about be through when you get back. Meet me down to the Herald office.”
Then Tom led the way up Chatham Street, and Josiah saw the girl of whom he was at that moment thinking.
“Hello, Sadie, how’s trade?” Bob shouted.
“I haven’t sold a box this mornin’. It seems as if nobody needed matches; an’ I reckon I’ll have to go into the newspaper business, even if the boys are rough.”
“Does she ever make very much?” Josiah asked in a whisper, as they were approaching the child.
“No, an’ I don’t know what she’s goin’ to do when cold weather comes. Tom an’ me help her out as much as we can, an’ some of the other fellers chip in a little; but it’s tough for her just the same. I don’t reckon she’s had anything to eat this mornin’, ’cause most likely Mother Hunter took all her money before she left the house.”
At that moment Sadie found a customer for her wares, and the boys walked away, Tom shouting when they were a few paces distant, that he would see her as they came back.
Josiah immediately became very thoughtful.
While sight-seeing with his two friends, he had forgotten Sadie and her troubles to a certain extent; but now, as he saw her at her work, all she had told him came into his mind, and he grew down-hearted, regardless of the fact that he was soon to see the wonders of Coney Island.
He was beginning to learn that hunger and want are frequent visitors in cities; and as he thought of Berry’s Corner, where all who were willing to work could find some way to earn sufficient money for their necessities, the metropolis lost very much of its beauty in his eyes.
On arriving at the shop a short distance above Canal Street, the boys found it open, consequently there need be no time wasted in waiting, as had been feared.
The woodchuck skins were not as valuable, in this particular dealer’s estimation, as Josiah had fancied.
The merchant examined them, expressed considerable dissatisfaction at the method of curing, and ended by offering fifteen cents for each.
This was so much less than the boys expected, that they would not accept the offer, and during the next hour went from shop to shop, but without meeting any better success.
It really seemed as if every furrier in town had conspired against the trapper from Berry’s Corner, and had set the price of supposedly valuable pelts at a ridiculously low figure.
“Are you goin’ to sell them for that?” Bob asked when they emerged from one of the largest establishments on Broadway, where the clerks would not even examine the skins, after being told they were woodchucks.
“What else can I do?” and Josiah spoke in a mournful tone. “Father says they mustn’t lay ’round the house in the winter, an’ mother won’t have ’em there in the summer on account of the moths, so I’d better give the whole lot away than carry ’em home again.”
“Then let’s go back to the first store, ’cause that man acted squarer than the rest, and didn’t put on so many airs.”
Josiah was greatly troubled in mind.
He had been almost recklessly extravagant since he arrived, believing the amount received from the fur would give him all the spending money needed, and with that idea had invited Sadie to accompany him to the museum on the Bowery.
Now, however, the utmost economy would be necessary, probably at the expense of the presents to his parents, and he must count carefully the pennies in order that all his hoard might not be exhausted before his father arrived.
“I have been a big fool,” he said to himself; “but who would have thought things were so high in the city? Now I’ve got to go on with the racket even though the last cent is spent, an’ I don’t have anything to carry home.”
By the time these mournful reflections were brought to a close they were at the shop first visited, and the trapper from Berry’s Corner received the amount offered for his furs.
The sixty cents were deposited in the huge wallet, and the boys turned toward the City Hall once more, Tom urging them on at full speed in order that they might leave for Coney Island at the earliest possible moment.
But it was as if Josiah could not walk rapidly.
He paid no attention to the alluring shop windows, neither did he appear to hear what his companions said to him, until they were crossing Chambers Street, when Bob cried impatiently:—
“If you don’t hurry up we won’t get there till noon. So long as we’ve got to spend our money for it, we may as well scoop in the whole show.”
Then it was Josiah suddenly awakened to the fact that his companions were urging him to greater speed; and he said abruptly, as he halted and seized both boys by the arms to insure attention:—
“See here, fellers, it’ll cost considerable money to go there, won’t it?”
“Bob an’ I’ve ’greed to pay for everything. We’ve been savin’ up to give you a good time, an’ it’ll be done in style.”
“Hold on a minute,” and Josiah spoke hurriedly, as if almost ashamed of what he was about to say. “I’d like to see the place, ’cause I want to know how the ocean looks; but when I think of that little match-girl without anybody to help her, it don’t seem’s if it was right to spend so much money jest for fun.”
“Do you mean to say we oughter give it to her?” Tom asked in surprise.
“It would do more good than for us to spend it havin’ a swell time.”
“You wouldn’t have much money if you staid ’round here givin’ it to every feller that was hard up,” Tom replied quite sharply. “There’s more’n a hundred jest as bad off as she is, an’ we can’t help ’em all. Both of us give her a few pennies when we’ve had a good day’s work; but sometimes it’s tough scrapin’ to get enough for ourselves.”
“Now don’t spoil all our fun,” Bob added. “You’ve come down where you never was before, an’ we wanter kind of square up for the good time out to the farm; but how are we goin’ to do it if you get soft on everybody what’s in trouble? Let’s go to Coney Island now, an’ to-morrow, if you say so, we’ll give her a nickle apiece.”
Josiah realized that he ought not interfere with the plans of his friends, neither was it for him to say whether they should devote their money to almsgiving, and he replied:—
“I’ll tell you what I wish you’d let me do: I haven’t got a great deal of spare cash; but I’d like to take her with us, an’ am willin’ to pay all she costs. It’ll be a big thing for her, an’ won’t spoil our fun.”
Tom and Bob hesitated, because they were just a trifle uncertain as to how Master Foss might fancy this unexpected addition to the party; and Josiah continued, in order to make his meaning more plain:—
“If she goes, I want to be sure an’ pay her bills, an’ I’ll see that she ain’t in you fellers’ way.”
“Well, s’pose we try it?” Bob said to Tom after a short pause. “It won’t do any harm; an’ if it’s goin’ to give him a better time, why we oughter let her come.”
“All right; you go after her with him, an’ I’ll snoop down to the Herald office so’s to kind of break it gently to Bill. It might not do to flash the thing too sudden on him, ’cause he never did think much of girls.”
Tom hurried away as he ceased speaking, while Josiah and Bob continued on to Chatham Square, where they plunged Sadie into a state of bewilderment and amazement, by inviting her to spend the entire day at Coney Island.
“Do you think I look fit?” she asked anxiously.
“Course you do,” Josiah replied promptly; “besides, nobody’s goin’ to see you.”
This was sufficient for the child; and, stopping only long enough to deposit her tray of matches with the friendly shopkeeper, she joined the boys, Josiah feeling fully repaid for the money he was about to spend, by the look of gratitude which lighted up the pale face.