So the next day Dick opened a bank account in his name, as Jimmy could not sign the book, a fact of which the newsboy was not at all ashamed. Nor could he read more than the titles of the different papers he carried, and these were distinguished by him more by the different kinds of type than by the difference in letters. Dick's fear about poor business was justified. A heavy rain storm took place that afternoon, just at the time when the extras came out. It seemed as if every one got in out of the wet, and there were few persons on the street to buy papers. The rain kept up until long after dark, and the two partners, who had to go out rain or shine, found they had not sold ten papers between them. "Dis is de time we're up ag'inst it," remarked Jimmy rather dismally as they took back to the newspaper offices the unsold copies and started for their room. "Well, we can't always expect to do as good business as we did at first. Anyhow, we don't have to worry about our room rent nor our supper. To-morrow we'll probably do better." "Let's take in a show," proposed Jimmy. "I feel sort of low in me mind, an' a good show'll cheer me up." "Do you think we can afford it? We haven't made our expenses to-day, and I don't believe we should waste any money on a show. We ought to wait until we have had better luck. Of course half the money is yours, and you can do as you please. Only I'm not going to spend any of mine on a show. Besides, we saw one this week." "Well, maybe I'd better stay home den," agreed Jimmy with a sigh. "Anyhow, I've got some cigarettes an' I'll have a smoke." "Jimmy," said Dick with a sudden resolve, "I wish you'd do me a favor." "Sure. What is it?" "Don't be so quick to promise until you hear what it is. Perhaps you'll not want to do it." "Why, I'd do anyt'ing fer youse, Dick." "Will you give up smoking?" "What's dat?" asked Jimmy suddenly, pausing in the act of lighting his cigarette. "I wish you would stop smoking. It can't do you any good, and I'm sure it must do you harm." "Stop smokin'? Say, I--I don't believe I kin. Honest I don't. Seems like whenever I feel bad a cigarette makes me feel fine." "That's just the trouble. You will get to depend on them to make you feel good, and you'll have to keep on smoking more and more as you grow older." "Aw, what's de harm? All de kids does it, an' look at de men." "I know plenty of them do, but I don't believe any of them can say it benefits them. I read in the paper the other day that a doctor said it was very injurious for boys to smoke. I saved the article. You ought to read it." "Huh! I can't read me own name." "Oh, excuse me. I didn't mean to make you feel bad," spoke Dick quickly. "I forgot you couldn't read." "Dat's all right, cully. Me feelin's ain't hurted." "Would you like to read?" asked Dick as an idea came to him. "Say, would I? Betcherlife I would. But I don't s'pose I ever kin learn." "I don't see why not."