The Errand Boy; Or, How Phil Brent Won Success

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  CHAPTER VII.

  BOWERMAN'S VARIETIES.

  The restaurant to which he was taken by Signor Orlando was thronged withpatrons, for it was one o'clock. On the whole, they did not appearto belong to the highest social rank, though they were doubtlessrespectable. The table-cloths were generally soiled, and the waiters hada greasy look. Phil said nothing, but he did not feel quite so hungry asbefore he entered.

  The signor found two places at one of the tables, and they sat down.Phil examined a greasy bill of fare and found that he could obtain aplate of meat for ten cents. This included bread and butter, and a dishof mashed potato. A cup of tea would be five cents additional.

  "I can afford fifteen cents for a meal," he thought, and called for aplate of roast beef.

  "Corn beef and cabbage for me," said the signor.

  "It's very filling," he remarked aside to Phil.

  "They won't give you but a mouthful of beef."

  So it proved, but the quality was such that Phil did not care for more.He ordered a piece of apple pie afterward feeling still hungry.

  "I see you're bound to have a square meal," said the signor.

  After Phil had had it, he was bound to confess that he did not feeluncomfortably full. Yet he had spent twice as much as the signor, whodispensed with the tea and pie as superfluous luxuries.

  In the evening Signor Orlando bent his steps toward Bowerman'sVarieties.

  "I hope in a day or two to get a complimentary ticket for you, Mr.Brent," he said.

  "How much is the ticket?" asked Phil.

  "Fifteen cents. Best reserved seats twenty-five cents.'

  "I believe I will be extravagant for once," said Phil, "and go at my ownexpense."

  "Good!" said the signor huskily. "You'll feel repaid I'll be bound.Bowerman always gives the public their money's worth. The performancebegins at eight o'clock and won't be out until half-past eleven."

  "Less than five cents an hour," commented Phil.

  "What a splendid head you've got!" said Signor Orlando admiringly. "Icouldn't have worked that up. Figures ain't my province."

  It seemed to Phil rather a slender cause for compliment, but he saidnothing, since it seemed clear that the computation was beyond hiscompanion's ability.

  As to the performance, it was not refined, nor was the talent employedfirst-class. Still Phil enjoyed himself after a fashion. He had neverhad it in his power to attend many amusements, and this was new to him.He naturally looked with interest for the appearance of his new friendand fellow-lodger.

  Signor Orlando appeared, dressed in gorgeous array, sang a song whichdid credit to the loudness of his voice rather than its quality, andended by a noisy clog-dance which elicited much applause from the boysin the gallery, who shared the evening's entertainment for the moderatesum of ten cents.

  The signor was called back to the stage. He bowed his thanks and gaveanother dance. Then he was permitted to retire. As this finished hispart of the entertainment he afterward came around in citizen's dress,and took a seat in the auditorium beside Phil.

  "How did you like me, Mr. Brent?" he asked complacently.

  "I thought you did well, Signor Orlando. You were much applauded."

  "Yes, the audience is very loyal," said the proud performer.

  Two half-grown boys heard Phil pronounce the name of his companion, andthey gazed awe-stricken at the famous man.

  "That's Signor Orlando!" whispered one of the others.

  "I know it," was the reply.

  "Such is fame," said the Signor, in a pleased tone to Phil. "Peoplepoint me out on the streets."

  "Very gratifying, no doubt," said our hero, but it occurred to him thathe would not care to be pointed out as a performer at Bowerman's. SignorOrlando, however, well-pleased with himself, didn't doubt that Phil wasimpressed by his popularity, and perhaps even envied it.

  They didn't stay till the entertainment was over. It was, of course,familiar to the signor, and Phil felt tired and sleepy, for he hadpassed a part of the afternoon in exploring the city, and had walked inall several miles.

  He went back to his lodging-house, opened the door with a pass-key whichMrs. Schlessinger had given him, and climbing to his room in the thirdstory, undressed and deposited himself in bed.

  The bed was far from luxurious. A thin pallet rested on slats, sothin that he could feel the slats through it, and the covering wasinsufficient. The latter deficiency he made up by throwing his overcoatover the quilt, and despite the hardness of his bed, he was soonsleeping soundly.

  "To-morrow I must look for a place," he said to Signor Orlando. "Can yougive me any advise?"

  "Yes, my dear boy. Buy a daily paper, the Sun or Herald, and look at theadvertisements. There may be some prominent business man who is lookingout for a boy of your size."

  Phil knew of no better way, and he followed Signor Orlando's advice.

  After a frugal breakfast at the Bowery restaurant, he invested a fewpennies in the two papers mentioned, and began to go the rounds.

  The first place was in Pearl Street.

  He entered, and was directed to a desk in the front part of the store.

  "You advertised for a boy," he said.

  "We've got one," was the brusque reply.

  Of course no more was to be said, and Phil walked out, a little dashedat his first rebuff.

  At the next place he found some half a dozen boys waiting, and joinedthe line, but the vacancy was filled before his turn came.

  At the next place his appearance seemed to make a good impression, andhe was asked several questions.

  "What is your name?"

  "Philip Brent."

  "How old are you?"

  "Just sixteen."

  "How is your education?"

  "I have been to school since I was six."

  "Then you ought to know something. Have you ever been in a place?"

  "No, sir."

  "Do you live with your parents?"

  "No, sir; I have just come to the city, and am lodging in Fifth Street."

  "Then you won't do. We wish our boys to live with their parents."

  Poor Phil! He had allowed himself to hope that at length he was likelyto get a place. The abrupt termination of the conversation dispiritedhim.

  He made three more applications. In one of them he again came nearsucceeding, but once more the fact that he did not live with his parentsdefeated his application.

  "It seems to be very hard getting a place," thought Phil, and it must beconfessed he felt a little homesick.

  "I won't make any more applications to-day," he decided, and being onBroadway, walked up that busy thoroughfare, wondering what the morrowwould bring forth.

  It was winter, and there was ice on the sidewalk. Directly in front ofPhil walked an elderly gentleman, whose suit of fine broadcloth and goldspectacles, seemed to indicate a person of some prominence and socialimportance.

  Suddenly he set foot on a treacherous piece of ice. Vainly he strove tokeep his equilibrium, his arms waving wildly, and his gold-headed canefalling to the sidewalk. He would have fallen backward, had not Phil,observing his danger in time, rushed to his assistance.