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|Ragged Dick||Horatio Alger|
Dick's New Suit
|Page 2 of 4||
"You're a brick," he said.
"A brick! You're a jolly good fellow to give me such a present."
"You're quite welcome, Dick," said Frank, kindly. "I'm better off than you are, and I can spare the clothes just as well as not. You must have a new hat though. But that we can get when we go out. The old clothes you can make into a bundle."
"Wait a minute till I get my handkercher," and Dick pulled from the pocket of the pants a dirty rag, which might have been white once, though it did not look like it, and had apparently once formed a part of a sheet or shirt.
"You mustn't carry that," said Frank.
"But I've got a cold," said Dick.
"Oh, I don't mean you to go without a handkerchief. I'll give you one."
Frank opened his trunk and pulled out two, which he gave to Dick.
"I wonder if I aint dreamin'," said Dick, once more surveying himself doubtfully in the glass. "I'm afraid I'm dreamin', and shall wake up in a barrel, as I did night afore last."
"Shall I pinch you so you can wake here?" asked Frank, playfully.
"Yes," said Dick, seriously, "I wish you would."
He pulled up the sleeve of his jacket, and Frank pinched him pretty hard, so that Dick winced.
"Yes, I guess I'm awake," said Dick; "you've got a pair of nippers, you have. But what shall I do with my brush and blacking?" he asked.
"You can leave them here till we come back," said Frank. "They will be safe."
"Hold on a minute," said Dick, surveying Frank's boots with a professional eye, "you aint got a good shine on them boots. I'll make 'em shine so you can see your face in 'em."
And he was as good as his word.
"Thank you," said Frank; "now you had better brush your own shoes."
This had not occurred to Dick, for in general the professional boot-black considers his blacking too valuable to expend on his own shoes or boots, if he is fortunate enough to possess a pair.
The two boys now went downstairs together. They met the same servant who had spoken to Dick a few minutes before, but there was no recognition.
"He don't know me," said Dick. "He thinks I'm a young swell like you."
"What's a swell?"
"Oh, a feller that wears nobby clothes like you."
"And you, too, Dick."
"Yes," said Dick, "who'd ever have thought as I should have turned into a swell?"
They had now got out on Broadway, and were slowly walking along the west side by the Park, when who should Dick see in front of him, but Johnny Nolan?
Instantly Dick was seized with a fancy for witnessing Johnny's amazement at his change in appearance. He stole up behind him, and struck him on the back.
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