Category: Ragged Dick

“Now,” said Mr. Whitney to Dick, “my nephew here is on his way to a boarding-school. He has a suit of clothes in his trunk about half worn. He is willing to give them to you. I think they will … Read the rest

Though Dick was somewhat startled at discovering that the bill he had offered was counterfeit, he stood his ground bravely.

“Clear out of this shop, you young vagabond,” repeated the clerk.

“Then give me back my bill.”

“That you may … Read the rest

After Dick had finished polishing Mr. Greyson’s boots he was fortunate enough to secure three other customers, two of them reporters in the Tribune establishment, which occupies the corner of Spruce Street and Printing House Square.

When Dick had got … Read the rest

“Wake up there, youngster,” said a rough voice.

Ragged Dick opened his eyes slowly, and stared stupidly in the face of the speaker, but did not offer to get up.

“Wake up, you young vagabond!” said the man a little … Read the rest

“Ragged Dick” was contributed as a serial story to the pages of the Schoolmate, a well-known juvenile magazine, during the year 1867. While in course of publication, it was received with so many evidences of favor that it has been … Read the rest

Going out into the fresh air Dick felt the pangs of hunger. He accordingly went to a restaurant and got a substantial supper. Perhaps it was the new clothes he wore, which made him feel a little more aristocratic. At … Read the rest

Dick’s ready identification of the rogue who had cheated the countryman, surprised Frank.

“What makes you think it is he?” he asked.

“Because I’ve seen him before, and I know he’s up to them kind of tricks. When I heard … Read the rest

“What a queer chap you are, Dick!” said Frank, laughing. “You always seem to be in good spirits.”

“No, I aint always. Sometimes I have the blues.”

“When?”

“Well, once last winter it was awful cold, and there was big … Read the rest

The boys had turned into Third Avenue, a long street, which, commencing just below the Cooper Institute, runs out to Harlem. A man came out of a side street, uttering at intervals a monotonous cry which sounded like “glass puddin’.”… Read the rest

“Have you always lived in New York, Dick?” asked Frank, after a pause.

“Ever since I can remember.”

“I wish you’d tell me a little about yourself. Have you got any father or mother?”

“I aint got no mother. She … Read the rest