Posted to Wiretap in August 1993, as ragged.txt.

Italics are represented as _italics_.

This text is in the PUBLIC DOMAIN.

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From the book "Ragged Dick and Struggling Upward", published
by Penguin Books, 1985. Ragged Dick was first published in the 
United States by A.K. Loring, 1868. The Introduction written
by Carl Bode is not included in this etext, and is (c)1985 by 
Viking Penguin, Inc., all rights reserved. The text itself
is not copyright, and this etext is public domain.

                         RAGGED DICK
                             OR
                   STREET LIFE IN NEW YORK

CHAPTER I

RAGGED DICK IS INTRODUCED TO THE READER

"WAKE up there, youngster," said a rough voice.

Ragged Dick opened his eyes slowly, and stared stupidly in
the face of the speaker, but did not offer to get up.

"Wake up, you young vagabond!" said the man a little impatiently;
"I suppose you'd lay there all day, if I hadn't called you."

"What time is it?" asked Dick.

"Seven o'clock."

"Seven o'clock!  I oughter've been up an hour ago.  I know
what 'twas made me so precious sleepy.  I went to the Old
Bowery last night, and didn't turn in till past twelve."

"You went to the Old Bowery?  Where'd you get your money?"
asked the man, who was a porter in the employ of a firm doing
business on Spruce Street.  "Made it by shines, in course. 
My guardian don't allow me no money for theatres, so I have
to earn it."

"Some boys get it easier than that," said the porter significantly.

"You don't catch me stealin', if that's what you mean," said Dick.

"Don't you ever steal, then?"

"No, and I wouldn't.  Lots of boys does it, but I wouldn't."

"Well, I'm glad to hear you say that.  I believe there's some
good in you, Dick, after all."

"Oh, I'm a rough customer!" said Dick.  "But I wouldn't steal. 
It's mean."

"I'm glad you think so, Dick," and the rough voice sounded gentler
than at first.  "Have you got any money to buy your breakfast?"

"No, but I'll soon get some."

While this conversation had been going on, Dick had got up. 
His bedchamber had been a wooden box half full of straw, on
which the young bootblack had reposed his weary limbs, and
slept as soundly as if it had been a bed of down.  He dumped
down into the straw without taking the trouble of undressing.

Getting up too was an equally short process.  He jumped out
of the box, shook himself, picked out one or two straws that
had found their way into rents in his clothes, and, drawing a
well-worn cap over his uncombed locks, he was all ready for
the business of the day.

Dick's appearance as he stood beside the box was rather peculiar. 
His pants were torn in several places, and had apparently
belonged in the first instance to a boy two sizes larger
than himself.  He wore a vest, all the buttons of which
were gone except two, out of which peeped a shirt which
looked as if it had been worn a month.  To complete his
costume he wore a coat too long for him, dating back, if one
might judge from its general appearance, to a remote antiquity.

Washing the face and hands is usually considered proper in
commencing the day, but Dick was above such refinement. 
He had no particular dislike to dirt, and did not think it
necessary to remove several dark streaks on his face and hands. 
But in spite of his dirt and rags there was something
about Dick that was attractive.  It was easy to see that if
he had been clean and well dressed he would have been
decidedly good-looking.  Some of his companions were sly, and
their faces inspired distrust; but Dick had a frank,
straight-forward manner that made him a favorite.

Dick's business hours had commenced.  He had no office to open. 
His little blacking-box was ready for use, and he looked
sharply in the faces of all who passed, addressing each with,
"Shine yer boots, sir?"