Ragged Dick, Or, Street Life in New York with the Boot-Blacks by Horatio Alger
page 40 of 233 (17%)
page 40 of 233 (17%)
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"Shall we go in, Dick?" "It's a swindlin' shop," said Dick, in a low voice. "I've been there. That man's a regular cheat. He's seen me before, but he don't know me coz of my clothes." "Step in and see the articles," said the man, persuasively. "You needn't buy, you know." "Are all the articles worth more'n a dollar?" asked Dick. "Yes," said the other, "and some worth a great deal more." "Such as what?" "Well, there's a silver pitcher worth twenty dollars." "And you sell it for a dollar. That's very kind of you," said Dick, innocently. "Walk in, and you'll understand it." "No, I guess not," said Dick. "My servants is so dishonest that I wouldn't like to trust 'em with a silver pitcher. Come along, Frank. I hope you'll succeed in your charitable enterprise of supplyin' the public with silver pitchers at nineteen dollars less than they are worth." "How does he manage, Dick?" asked Frank, as they went on. |
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