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Adrift in New York Tom and Florence Braving the World

Creator: Alger, Horatio, 1832-1899
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The Missing Will. An hour after the depart of the colonel there was an unexpected arrival. A well-dressed gentleman descended the stairs gingerly, looked about him with fastidious disdain, and walked up to the bar. Tim Bolton was filling an order, and did not immediately observe him. When at length he turned around he exclaimed, in some surprise: "Mr. Waring!" "Yes, Bolton, I have found my way here." "I have been expecting you." "I came to you for some information." "Well, ask your questions: I don't know whether I can answer them." "First, where is my Cousin Florence?"
Old Saint Paul\'s A Tale of the Plague and the Fire

THE GROCER OF WOOD-STREET AND HIS FAMILY. One night, at the latter end of April, 1665, the family of a citizen of London carrying on an extensive business as a grocer in Wood-street, Cheapside, were assembled, according to custom, at prayer. The grocer's name was Stephen Bloundel. His family consisted of his wife, three sons, and two daughters. He had, moreover, an apprentice; an elderly female serving as cook; her son, a young man about five-and-twenty, filling the place of porter to the shop and general assistant; and a kitchen-maid. The whole household attended; for the worthy grocer, being a strict observer of his religious duties, as well as a rigid disciplinarian in other respects, suffered no one to be absent, on any plea whatever, except indisposition, from morning and evening devotions; and these were always performed at stated times. In fact, the establishment was conducted with the regularity of clockwork, it being the aim of its master not to pass a single hour of the day unprofitably. The ordinary prayers gone through, Stephen Bloundel offered up along and fervent supplication to the Most High for protection against the devouring pestilence with which the city was then scourged. He acknowledged that this terrible visitation had been justly brought upon
"How should I know? She wasn't likely to place herself under my protection." "She's with that boy of yours--Dodger, I believe you call him. Where is he?" "Run away," answered Bolton, briefly. "Do you mean that you don't know where he is?" "Yes, I do mean that. I haven't set my eyes on him since that night." "What do you mean by such negligence? Do you remember who he is?" "Certainly I do." "Then why do you let him get of your reach?" "How could I help it? Here I am tied down to this bar day and night! I'm nearly dead for want of sleep." "It would be better to close up your place for a week and look after him." "Couldn't do it. I should lose all my trade. People would say I was closed up."