He had been up an hour, and hard at work,
and naturally began to think of breakfast. He went up to the head
of Spruce Street, and turned into Nassau. Two blocks further, and he
reached Ann Street. On this street was a small, cheap restaurant,
where for five cents Dick could get a cup of coffee, and for ten
cents more, a plate of beefsteak with a plate of bread thrown in.
These Dick ordered, and sat down at a table.
It was a small apartment with a few plain tables unprovided with
cloths, for the class of customers who patronized it were not very
particular. Our hero's breakfast was soon before him. Neither the
coffee nor the steak were as good as can be bought at Delmonico's;
but then it is very doubtful whether, in the present state of his
wardrobe, Dick would have been received at that aristocratic
restaurant, even if his means had admitted of paying the high
prices there charged.
Dick had scarcely been served when he espied a boy about his own
size standing at the door, looking wistfully into the restaurant.
This was Johnny Nolan, a boy of fourteen, who was engaged in the
same profession as Ragged Dick. His wardrobe was in very much the
same condition as Dick's.
"Had your breakfast, Johnny?" inquired Dick, cutting off a piece of
steak.
"No."
"Come in, then. Here's room for you."
"I aint got no money," said Johnny, looking a little enviously at
his more fortunate friend.
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