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He had been, as he claimed, "a cruel uncle's ward" in his early orphan-hood, and while yet almost a child he had run away from home, to fulfil his heart's desire of becoming a clog-dancer in a troupe of negro minstrels. But it was first his fate to be cabin-boy and bootblack on a lake steamboat, and meet with many squalid adventures, scarcely to be matched outside of a Spanish picaresque novel.

Now I tell you I'll put off Melbourne. That's the land, my hearty!" "Nonsense-you wont do any such thing." "Yes, I must. I can't do anything here. I want to get to the diggings." "Pooh, Marden. Don't be cast down. I don't care, though. I am worse off than you." "You can't leave here, unless you become a bootblack or a servant." "By the lord Harry then, I would be a servant."

The law is usually supposed to be a stern mistress, not to be lightly wooed, and yielding only to the most ardent pursuit. But even law, like love, sits more easily on some natures than on others. This was the case with Mr. Robinson Asbury. Mr. Asbury had started life as a bootblack in the growing town of Cadgers. From this he had risen one step and become porter and messenger in a barber-shop.

Not far away a plump flashy young creature was smiling down on the bootblack who was busily shining her small patent leather shoes. Her bright blue petticoat lifted high displayed the most enticing charms, and as now she turned to look off toward the lights of the city ahead, she smiled gaily to herself. And she saw no harbor.

"You know the old saying that a uniform has made many a hero of a bootblack." "Goodness, I hope you aren't a bootblack," said Mollie from her car, where she was "doing things" with the engine. "I'm not," answered Roy, adding with a grin: "Nothing half so honest."

He had not yet acquired that sharp, keen look which characterizes, in most cases, the New York boy who has spent all his life in the streets. "I can answer both your questions with the same word, Master Hector," said Larry, as a sober look swept over his broad, honest face. "Don't call me master, Larry. We are equals here. But what is that word?" "That word is trouble," answered the bootblack.

544 The Boy Messenger of Russia; or, The Czar's Secret Despatch Bearer. By Allan Arnold. 545 Monte Cristo, Jr.; or, The Diamonds of the Borgias. By Howard Austin. 546 The Boy Privateer Captain; or, Lost on a Nameless Sea. By Capt. Thos. H. Wilson. 547 The Boys in Blue; or, The Football Champions of Cherryville. By Allan Arnold. 548 From Bootblack to Broker; or, The Luck of a Wall Street Boy.

Influenced by this representation, the bootblack drew out a five-cent piece, and said: "Pitch one over then. I guess I can stand it." An envelope was at once handed him. "Open it, Johnny," said a newsboy at his side. Twenty curious eyes were fixed upon him as he opened the package.

"What'd be the use of tryin'? They'd know I was a bootblack in these clo'es." "When you wear a better suit you can go round and try your luck." "I'd like to," said Mike wistfully. "I don't want you to tell at the store that you room with a bootblack." "It isn't that I think of, Mike. I want you to do better. I'm going to make a man of you." "I hope you are.

The notion of sitting down and conjuring up, not only words in which to clothe thoughts but thoughts worthy of being clothed the whole thing was absurdly beyond his desires. Emerging from his bath he polished himself with the meticulous attention of a bootblack.