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Adrift in New York Tom and Florence Braving the World

Creator: Alger, Horatio, 1832-1899
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"Oh, I wish I could persuade you to give up this bad life," resumed Florence, earnestly, "and become honest." "Do you really care what becomes of me, miss?" asked Dodger, slowly. "I do, indeed." "That's very kind of you, miss; but I don't understand it. You are a rich young lady, and I'm only a poor boy, livin' in a Bowery dive." "What's that?" "Never mind, miss, such as you wouldn't understand. Why, all my life I've lived with thieves, and drunkards, and bunco men, and----" "But I'm sure you don't like it. You are fit for something better." "Do you really think so?" asked Dodger, doubtfullly. "Yes; you have a good face. You were meant to be good and honest, I am sure." "Would you trust me?" asked the boy, earnestly, fixing his large, dark eyes eloquently on the face of Florence.
Brave and Bold The Fortunes of Robert Rushton

CHAPTER I. THE YOUNG RIVALS. The main schoolroom in the Millville Academy was brilliantly lighted, and the various desks were occupied by boys and girls of different ages from ten to eighteen, all busily writing under the general direction of Professor George W. Granville, Instructor in Plain and Ornamental Penmanship. Professor Granville, as he styled himself, was a traveling teacher, and generally had two or three evening schools in progress in different places at the same time. He was really a very good penman, and in a course of twelve lessons, for which he charged the very moderate price of a dollar, not, of course, including stationery, he contrived to impart considerable instruction, and such pupils as chose to learn were likely to profit by his instructions. His venture in Millville had been unusually successful. There were a hundred pupils on his list, and there had been no disturbance during the course of lessons.
"Yes, I would if you would only leave your evil companions, and become true to your better nature." "No one ever spoke to me like that before, miss," said Dodger, his expressive features showing that he was strongly moved. "You think I could be good if I tried hard, and grow up respectable?" "I am sure you could," said Florence, confidently. There was something in this boy, young outlaw though he was, that moved her powerfully, and even fascinated her, though she hardly realized it. It was something more than a feeling of compassion for a wayward and misguided youth. "I could if I was rich like you, and lived in a nice house, and 'sociated with swells. If you had a father like mine----" "Is he a bad man?" "Well, he don't belong to the church. He keeps a gin mill, and has ever since I was a kid." "Have you always lived with him?" "Yes, but not in New York."