PAUL THE PEDDLER OR THE FORTUNES OF A YOUNG STREET MERCHANT

BY HORATIO ALGER, JR.

BIOGRAPHY AND BIBLIOGRAPHY

Horatio Alger, Jr., an author who lived among and for boys and
himself remained a boy in heart and association till death, was
born at Revere, Mass., January 13, 1834. He was the son of a
clergyman, was graduated at Harvard College in 1852, and at its
Divinity School in 1860 and was pastor of the Unitarian Church at
Brewster, Mass., in 1862-66.

In the latter year he settled in New York and began drawing
public attention to the condition and needs of street boys. He
mingled with them, gained their confidence showed a personal
concern in their affairs, and stimulated them to honest and
useful living. With his first story he won the hearts of all
red-blooded boys everywhere, and of the seventy or more that
followed over a million copies were sold during the author's
lifetime.

In his later life he was in appearance a short, stout,
bald-headed man, with cordial manners and whimsical views of
things that amused all who met him. He died at Natick, Mass.,
July 18, 1899.

Mr. Alger's stories are as popular now as when first published,
because they treat of real live boys who were always up and
about-just like the boys found everywhere to-day. They are pure
in tone and inspiring in influence, and many reforms in the
juvenile life of New York may be traced to them. Among the best
known are:

Strong and Steady; Strive and Succeed; Try and Trust; Bound to
Rise; Risen from the Ranks; Herbert Carter's Legacy; Brave and
Bold; Jack's Ward; Shifting for Himself; Wait and Hope; Paul the
Peddler; Phil the Fiddler; Slow and Sure; Julius the Street Boy;
Tom the Bootblack; Struggling Upward, Facing the World; The Cash
Boy; Making His Way; Tony the Tramp; Joe's Luck; Do and Dare;
Only an Irish Boy; Sink or Swim; A Cousin's Conspiracy; Andy
Gordon; Bob Burton; Harry Vane; Hector's Inheritance; Mark
Mason's Triumph; Sam's Chance; The Telegraph Boy; The Young
Adventurer; The Young Outlaw; The Young Salesman, and Luke Walton.

PAUL THE PEDDLER

CHAPTER I

PAUL THE PEDDLER

"Here's your prize packages!  Only five cents!  Money prize in
every package!  Walk up, gentlemen, and try your luck!"

The speaker, a boy of fourteen, stood in front of the shabby
brick building, on Nassau street, which has served for many years
as the New York post office.  In front of him, as he stood with
his back to the building, was a small basket, filled with
ordinary letter envelopes, each labeled "Prize Package."

His attractive announcement, which, at that time, had also the
merit of novelty--for Paul had himself hit upon the idea, and
manufactured the packages, as we shall hereafter explain--drew
around him a miscellaneous crowd, composed chiefly of boys.

"What's in the packages, Johnny?" asked a bootblack, with his
box strapped to his back.

"Candy," answered Paul.  "Buy one.  Only five cents."

"There ain't much candy," answered the bootblack, with a
disparaging glance.

"What if there isn't?  There's a prize."

"How big a prize?"

"There's a ten-cent stamp in some of 'em.  All have got something
in 'em."

Influenced by this representation, the bootblack drew out a
five-cent piece, and said:

"Pitch one over then.  I guess I can stand it."  An envelope was
at once handed him.

"Open it, Johnny," said a newsboy at his side.  Twenty curious
eyes were fixed upon him as he opened the package.  He drew out
rather a scanty supply of candy, and then turning to Paul, with a
look of indignation, said:

"Where's the prize?  I don't see no prize.  Give me back my five
cents."

"Give it to me.  I'll show you," said the young merchant.

He thrust in his finger, and drew out a square bit of paper, on
which was written- One Cent.

"There's your prize," he added, drawing a penny from his pocket.

"It ain't much of a prize," said the buyer.  "Where's your ten
cents?"

"I didn't say I put ten cents into every package," answered Paul.

"I'd burst up pretty quick if I did that.  Who'll have another
package?  Only five cents!"

Curiosity and taste for speculation are as prevalent among
children as with men, so this appeal produced its effect.

"Give me a package," said Teddy O'Brien, a newsboy, stretching
out a dirty hand, containing the stipulated sum.  He also was
watched curiously as he opened the package.  He drew out a paper
bearing the words- Two Cents.

"Bully for you, Teddy!  You've had better luck than I," said the
bootblack.

The check was duly honored, and Teddy seemed satisfied, though
the amount of candy he received probably could not have cost over
half-a-cent.  Still, he had drawn twice as large a prize as the
first buyer, and that was satisfactory.

"Who'll take the next?" asked Paul, in a businesslike manner. 
"Maybe there's ten cents in this package.  That's where you
double your money.  Walk up, gentlemen.  Only five cents!"

Three more responded to this invitation, one drawing a prize of
two cents, the other two of one cent each.  Just then, as it
seemed doubtful whether any more would be purchased by those
present, a young man, employed in a Wall street house, came out
of the post office.

"What have you got here?"  he asked, pausing.

"Prize packages of candy!  Money prize in every package!  Only
five cents!"

"Give me one, then.  I never drew a prize in my life."

The exchange was speedily made.

"I don't see any prize," he said, opening it.

"It's on a bit of paper, mister," said Teddy, nearly as much
interested as if it had been his own purchase.

"Oh, yes, I see.  Well, I'm in luck.  Ten cents!"

"Ten cents!"  exclaimed several of the less fortunate buyers,
with a shade of envy.

"Here's your prize, mister," said Paul, drawing out a ten-cent
stamp from his vest pocket.

"Well, Johnny, you do things on the square, that's a fact.  Just
keep the ten cents, and give me two more packages."

This Paul did with alacrity; but the Wall street clerk's luck was
at an end.  He got two prizes of a penny each.

"Well," he said, "I'm not much out of pocket.  I've bought three
packages, and it's only cost me three cents."

The ten-cent prize produced a favorable effect on the business of
the young peddler.  Five more packages were bought, and the
contents eagerly inspected; but no other large prize appeared. 
Two cents was the maximum prize drawn.  Their curiosity being
satisfied, the crowd dispersed; but it was not long before
another gathered.  In fact, Paul had shown excellent judgment in
selecting the front of the post office as his place of business. 
Hundreds passed in and out every hour, besides those who passed
by on a different destination.  Thus many ears caught the young
peddler's cry--"Prize packages!  Only five cents apiece!"--and
made a purchase; most from curiosity, but some few attracted by
the businesslike bearing of the young merchant, and willing to
encourage him in his efforts to make a living.  These last, as
well as some of the former class, declined to accept the prizes,
so that these were so much gain to Paul.

At length but one package remained, and this Paul was some time
getting rid of.  At last a gentleman came up, holding a little
boy of seven by the hand.

"Oh, buy me the package, papa?" he said, drawing his father's
attention.

"What is there in it, boy?" asked the gentleman.

"Candy," was the answer.

Alfred, for this was the little boy's name, renewed his
entreaties, having, like most boys, a taste for candy.

"There it is, Alfred," said his father, handing the package to
his little son.