The result of the survey was not on
the whole a pleasing one. To tell the truth, Dick was quite ashamed
of his appearance, and, on opening the chamber-door, looked around
to see that the coast was clear, not being willing to have any of
his fellow-boarders see him in his present attire.
He managed to slip out into the street unobserved, and, after
attending to two or three regular customers who came down-town
early in the morning, he made his way down Nassau Street to the
post-office. He passed along until he came to a compartment on
which he read ADVERTISED LETTERS, and, stepping up to the little
window, said,--
"There's a letter for me. I saw it advertised in the 'Sun'
yesterday."
"What name?" demanded the clerk.
"Ragged Dick," answered our hero.
"That's a queer name," said the clerk, surveying him a little
curiously. "Are you Ragged Dick?"
"If you don't believe me, look at my clo'es," said Dick.
"That's pretty good proof, certainly," said the clerk, laughing. "If
that isn't your name, it deserves to be."
"I believe in dressin' up to your name," said Dick.
"Do you know any one in Barnton, Connecticut?" asked the clerk, who
had by this time found the letter.
"Yes," said Dick. "I know a chap that's at boardin'-school there."
"It appears to be in a boy's hand. I think it must be yours."
The letter was handed to Dick through the window. He received it
eagerly, and drawing back so as not to be in the way of the throng
who were constantly applying for letters, or slipping them into the
boxes provided for them, hastily opened it, and began to read.
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