The Adventures of a Boy ReporterMorrison, Harry Steele
General
The Adventures of a Boy Reporter
Morrison, Harry Steele
Reporters and reporting -- Juvenile fiction
Finally, he entered a large, handsome suite of rooms, in one of the
great sky-scrapers, and was shown into a very elegant private office.
There he found an old gentleman seated in a great easy chair, looking
over papers, and keeping one eye upon a buzzing instrument at his side
which seemed to be spitting out long strips of paper, like a magician
in a side-show. The man looked up as he entered, and cleared his throat.
“Ahem,” he said, “you look as if you were from the country. I wonder,
now, if you have came to the city to seek your fortune.”
Archie was embarrassed. “Yes, sir, I suppose you might put it that way,”
he replied.
“Well,” continued the old gentleman, “my advice to you is to go back
where you came from as quickly as you can. Not one boy in a thousand
will gain either fame or fortune in New York, and you stand a wonderful
chance of sinking lower every year. And even if you do succeed, you will
miss many beautiful things in your life which may come to you in the
country. You can have a pleasant home there, and live an easy, natural
life, while here it will be years before you can expect to accomplish
much, and you will spend your life in a nervous strain. Think well,
young man, before choosing the great city as your sphere of usefulness.”
“I’ve made up my mind, sir,” said Archie. “I have quite decided to
remain in the city.”
“Very well,” said the old gentleman, “I hope you may never regret it.
But we have already hired an office boy. Good morning.”
Archie walked out, more discouraged than ever. Perhaps, after all, a
country life was not to be so much despised. This man ought to know what
he was talking about. But once outside, in the Broadway crowd, Archie
forgot everything about the country, and was lost in the delight of
being one of four million.
He now decided to accept the place in the restaurant, if it were
not taken, and, fortunately for him, it was not. So he rolled up his
sleeves, and began to wash dishes as if he had done nothing else in all
his life before.
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE STREET AGAIN--THE POLICE STATION--VISITS THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE,
AND IS KINDLY RECEIVED BY THE EDITOR.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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