Paul the Peddler; Or, The Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant

pping before a tenement-house, he entered, and, going

said a woman of middle age

her; I've

e whole fifty packages?

e. I had ca

e as much as a dollar,

Just wait a minute, till I've rec

m out to walk with her, so I let

explanation and description may be given, so that t

. There was a French clock on the mantel, a rocking chair for his mother, and a few inexpensive engravings hung upon the walls. There was a hanging bookcase containing two shelves, filled with books, partly school books, supplemented by a few miscellaneous books, such as "Robinson

ot very common in tenement-houses, and if there are any pictures, they are usually the cheapest prints. Wooden chairs, and generally every object of the cheapest, are to be met with in the dwellings of the New York poor. If we find something better in the present

et us improve the opportunity by gi

rought an end to their prosperity. In crossing Broadway at its most crowded part, the husband and father was run over by a loaded dray, and so seriously injured that he lived but a few hours. Then the precarious nature of their prosperity was found out. Mr. Hoffman had not saved anything, having always lived up to the extent of his income. It was obviously impossible for them to continue to live in their old home, paying a rent of twenty dollars per month. B

but he had a natural taste for trade, and this led him to join the ranks of the street peddlers. He began with vending matches, but found so much competition in the business, and received so rough a reception oftentimes from those who had repeated calls from others in the same business, that he gave it up, and tried something else. But the same competition which crowds the professions and the higher employments followed by men, prevails

ence in that line are recorded in the previous chapter. Adding only th

made, mother?" asked Paul, lookin

, Pa

and thir

nt to so much. The prizes came

I will tell y

candy . . .

envelopes . .

. . . . . . .

. . . . . . .

two dollars and a half. Taking out the expenses, it leaves me a dol

ught your prizes amounted

who bought wouldn't take their p

, Paul. I wish you might

nd of candy on the way home, and some cheap envelopes, and

nd envelopes, and set abo

f the small amount

bought for the sa

with your candy, and then there may not be so muc

ll only make thirty packages with this pound, instead

opened, and Paul'

which, added to his delicate constitution, was likely to interfere seriously with his success in life. But, as frequently happens, Jimmy was all the more end

ou had a pleasant wa

to Fulton Market. There's

e than in this d

, while you are here. How did you m

Jimmy, every one. I

t I he

t take those envelopes, and write p

ot the pen and ink, and, gathering up the envelope

k-not more than three-quarters of a pound-a few potatoes, a loaf of bread, and a small plate of butter. That was all; but then th

doing this morning

re's a picture of Friday. I co

t in the book, for this-the gift of drawing-was Jimmy

e a real genius. I shouldn't be surpr

mmy, earnestly. "There's

fternoon, I'll buy you a drawing-book and some

hould like it so much. Some time

said Paul, cheerfully

his he invested in a drawing-book, a pencil and some drawing-paper for Jimmy. Even then he had left of his earnings for the day one dollar a