From Farm to Fortune | Page 9

and Sam Price started for home.
Brookville was on a small branch railroad running to Cleveland, and by consulting a time-table Nat learned that a train for Cleveland would leave in ten minutes. He lost no time in purchasing a ticket, and spent the rest of the time in eating some of the lunch he had brought along. With over twenty-three dollars still in his pocket he felt rich, and bought some peanuts and a cake of sweet chocolate.
When the train came along there were scarcely any passengers aboard, so he had little difficulty in getting the seat he wanted. He sat down by a window, with his bundle beside him, and gave himself up to thinking and to looking at the scenery as it whirled past.
Nat had traveled but little on the cars, so the ride to Cleveland was intensely enjoyable. The different places passed were so interesting that he soon forgot to think about his prospects, or of what he was to do when he arrived at the city on the lake.
"Next stop is Cleveland!" cried the conductor, standing at the open doorway. "All change, for trains east and west!"
A moment later the train rolled into the smoky station, and bundle in hand, Nat left the car and stepped onto the platform. From there he walked to the street, where he gazed in some bewilderment at the crowds of people and the swiftly moving street cars.
"Paper!" cried a newsboy. "Morning paper?"
"No, I don't want any paper," answered Nat.
"All about the big fire in Chicago, boss. Take a paper?"
"Yes, I'll take one," said Nat, and passed over the necessary change. Off darted the newsboy, to be lost in the crowd on the other side of the street. Nat gazed at the paper, to find that a tenement had burned out in Chicago, with the loss of one life.
"That's not such a terrible thing--for a big city like Chicago," he mused, and then noticed that the newspaper was two days old.
"That boy stuck me!" he muttered, and a cloud crossed his face. "I wonder where he is?"
The boy could not be found, and in a moment Nat concluded it would be a waste of time to look for him.
"He caught me for a greeny, true enough," he thought. "I've got to keep my eyes open after this."
From one street Nat passed to another, gazing into the shop windows, and wondering what he had best do next. He had at first calculated to go to New York without delay, but now thought it would do no harm to remain in Cleveland a day or two.
"Perhaps I'll never get here again," he reasoned. "And I might as well see all there is to see."
Noon found him on one of the main streets. He was now hungry again, and coming to a modest-looking restaurant, he entered and sat down at a side table.
"What will you have?" asked the waiter, coming up to him.
"Give me a regular dinner," said Nat, seeing the sign on the wall:
Regular Dinner, 11 to 2. 30 cents.
The waiter walked off, and presently returned with some bread and butter.
"Pea or tomato soup?" he asked.
"What's that?" questioned the boy.
"Pea or tomato soup?"
"I don't want any soup--I want a regular dinner."
At this the waiter smiled, for he saw that Nat was green.
"We serve soup first--if the customer wants it."
"And what do you serve after that?"
"One kind of meat, vegetables, coffee or milk, and pie or pudding."
"Oh! Well bring me the meat and other stuff. I never cared for soup anyway."
"Roast beef or lamb?"
"Roast beef."
The waiter went off, and presently Nat was supplied with all he cared to eat. The food was good, and he took his time, finishing off with a piece of lemon meringue pie, a dainty of which he was exceedingly fond, but which Mrs. Felton had seldom dared to make.
"Thirty cents, but I guess it was worth it," he thought, as he left the restaurant.
Nat had never seen Lake Erie, and toward the middle of the afternoon he walked down in the direction of the water. The shipping interested him greatly, and it was dark before he realized that the day was gone without anything definite being accomplished.
"Gracious, how time flies when one is in the city!" he thought. "To-morrow, I must make up my mind what to do next. If I don't, I'll have my money spent, and no job, either."
As it grew darker the boy felt the necessity of looking for accommodations for the night. Seeing a sign on a house, Furnished Rooms by the Day, Week, or Month, he ascended the stoop, and rang the bell. A young Irish girl answered his summons.
"Can I get a bed for to-night?" asked Nat.
"I guess yez can--I'll call Mrs. O'Hara," said the girl.
The landlady soon showed herself, and said she