From Office Boy to Reporter; Or, The First Step in JournalismGaris, Howard Roger
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From Office Boy to Reporter; Or, The First Step in Journalism
Garis, Howard Roger
Journalists -- Juvenile fiction
Larry was tired enough to fall off to sleep at once, but, for a time,
the many unusual noises bothered him. There was an elevated railroad
not far off, and the whistle of the trains, the buzz and hum of the
motors, kept him awake. Then, too, the streets were full of excitement,
boys shouting and men calling, for it was a warm night, and many stayed
out until late.
At length, however, the country boy fell asleep, and dreamed that he
was engineer on a ferryboat which collided with an elevated train, and
the whole affair smashed into a balloon and came shooting earthward,
landing with a thump, which so startled Larry that he awoke with a
spring that would have rolled him out of bed had he not been sleeping
on the floor.
It was just getting daylight, and Larry at first could not recall where
he was. Then he sat up, and his movement awakened Mr. Jackson.
“Is it time to get up?” asked the latter.
“I--I don’t know,” said Larry.
Mr. Jackson reached under his pillow, drew out his watch, and looked at
the time.
“Guess I’d better be stirring if I want to get to work to-day,” he
remarked. Then he began to dress and Larry did likewise. Mrs. Jackson
was already up, and breakfast was soon served.
“Make yourselves at home,” was Mr. Jackson’s remark, as he left the
house to go to the office where he was employed.
Mrs. Dexter insisted on helping Mrs. Jackson with the housework, and,
while the two women were engaged Mary and James went down to the street
to see what, to them, were many wonderful sights. Lucy, whose spine
hurt her very much because of the long journey, remained in bed, and
Larry made himself useful by going to the store for Mrs. Jackson, after
receiving many cautions from his mother not to get lost in New York.
Mrs. Dexter was worrying over what she should do. She wanted to find
her sister, but she realized that if Mr. Ralston was dead his widow
would not be in a position to give even temporary shelter to Mrs.
Dexter and her family. She knew her sister must have written to her,
but the letter had probably reached Campton after Mrs. Dexter had left.
“Why don’t you take a few rooms in this house?” suggested Mrs.
Jackson. “There are some to be had cheap on the floor above, and it’s
a respectable place. Then you will have time to hunt up your sister.
Maybe the janitor knows where she moved to.”
“I believe I will do that,” said the widow. She knew what little money
she had would not last long and she wanted to make a home for her
children where they could stay while she went out to work.
When Larry returned Mrs. Dexter talked the matter over with him, for
she had come to depend on her son very much of late. The matter was
decided by their engaging four rooms on the floor above. They were
unfurnished except for an attractive gas range on which cooking could
be done.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know how to work it,” said Mrs. Dexter.
“I know,” said Larry. “Mrs. Jackson showed me this morning.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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