Horatio Alger's Ragged Dick

{ Long absences equal lots of reading. }

Today marked my first encounter with the great Horatio Alger, Jr., through the kind offices of one Ragged Dick. Despite Alger's rather considerable body of work I had somehow managed to miss him in my studies, a feat somewhat like dodging an elephant. After all, over the course of his decades-long writing career, Alger published an impressive 110 books, most aimed at improving the moral character of young boys. The fact that the vast majority of these were really basically the same book just with different names or that they were written by a man whose own moral character was somewhat marred by accusations (probably justified) of some early episodes of pedophilia, shouldn't diminish our view of his accomplishment too much. After all, I have yet to get even one book published, and I don't have the excuse of being distracted by the altar boys.

Published in 1868, Ragged Dick was Alger's first real success; it can be (and often is, since most of us can't be bothered to read the whole of his work) taken as a fair representation of the rags to riches model on which Alger built most of his novels: young boy, poor but honest, bootstraps his way to respectability with the help of benevolent strangers and a little good luck. This was precisely what the secondary literature had led me to expect; what I hadn't expected was Alger's considerable skill as a writer. Ragged Dick is FUN. The dialogue is brisk and lively; the characters have some genuine charm. And the story itself is sweet. I get the impression that scholars are supposed to be unmoved by the sort of gentle sentimentalism Alger employs, but I have to confess that I kind of like it.

I was delighted to find that not only is Ragged Dick an enjoyable read, it also provides a couple great con-man moments to add to the pot. Dick encounters a real live con artist on the streets Manhattan performing what Alger calls the "drop game," a famous swindle in which a con man pretends to find a wallet thick with bills lying in the street. Appealing to his mark, the con man desires that he would find the owner and return the wallet; the con man would do it himself only he must this instant board a train/boat/plane and cannot wait. Of course, a considerable reward should be expected for the return of such a valuable wallet, but the con man can find no bills in the wallet sufficiently small to pay himself the portion of the reward he can rightfully expect. Perhaps the mark could give him that amount from his own pocket, since he is sure of recovering the full reward from the original owner? Money in hand, the con man makes good his escape; it is only upon closer examination that the mark discovers the wallet is a dummy, packed with worthless paper. This con is such a classic Poe mentions it as one of the representative diddles in his essay on the subject. Dick is, of course, far too street wise to fall for such an old trick.

But a tearful country bumpkin is not so lucky in another episode. In the confidence trick played here, the mark, preferably an out-of-towner, is convinced to exchange his cash for a check of greater value on a dummy bank. The con man plays on the mark's ignorance of local banks, his greed, and often on his charity, since the mark can be told that the switch is necessary because the cash is desperately needed and the banks are not yet open. Once again Dick's street savvy defeats the con. Recognizing the con man from the bumpkin's description, Dick convinces him to hand over the money by pretending to have inside information regarding police movements.

For Alger, the con man is not quite the harmless figure of fun that he plays in some of the other literature; nor is he a terribly brilliant character, being outwitted on two accounts by a 14 year old bootblack. Rather, he represents the dangerous alternate course for poor but somewhat clever boys, one which Alger wishes to discourage them from taking. Alger emphasizes patience and hard work as the keys to respectability, even Dick's work as a bootblack is preferable to a life of scheming and swindling. It is Dick's strict honesty that prevents him from becoming a confidence man, and it is that same quality that Alger's reader's were to emulate.