his napkin. The manner of the new arrival had
made a favourable impression, and Cicero made
no secret of his opinions.

"Certain, mas'r, dat some great man. Bootiful
hosses, reg'lar Albany bred, smart carriage
and silver-plated harness. Don't see such in
'tupid ole Lockhaven ebbery day. Hate
Lockhaven. Give warnin' and go, when month up.
Cicero from de ole South, mas'r, not used to
mean ways of dese parts."

Cicero was sure that the stranger was governor
of a state, mayor of a town, or, at the least, the
"boss" of some grand firm in the Empire City.
Before I could inquire what a boss might be,
the subject of these commendations returned,
with washed hands and brushed coat, and Cicero
scuttled off to fetch the turkey, venison steaks,
green corn-cobs, Maine ham, stewed fish, and
unknown vegetables, which formed the most
attractive portion of Colonel Pegler's rather
scanty bill of fare. These he speedily brought,
along with a bottle of old Madeira, and the new
guest fell upon the repast with the swift and
silent hunger of his nation; it was not until his
appetite was quite appeased that he asked me
any more questions.

"Touring, sir?"

"Not exactly," I answered, in a hesitating
manner, for I was new to the country and its
ways, and my heart was heavy within me. The
two months I had spent in America had been
months of worry and disappointment. I felt the
stranger's keen eye as he scanned me with a
pertinacious scrutiny that would have been
downright rudeness in the Old World, but was
not necessarily such in the New.

"Allow me to offer you a glass of this wine.
It is really tolerable, though no more South
Side, as it pretends, than a Hoboken oyster is a
Mississippi alligator," said my pertinacious
friend, speaking with good-natured volubility as
he saw me pick up my hat and glance towards
the door, in meditation of a retreat. "Your
company will be really a favour, and I hope you
won't leave me with no conversation accessible
but that of a country bar-keeper." Not to appear
churlish, I took the seat to which the hospitable
Yankee beckoned me, and filled my glass at his
invitation. The wine was good, much better
than the cheap Catawba to which my lean purse
had hitherto confined me, and the American did
not ply me with direct questions, as before, but,
by a succession of delicately-put hints, drew
from me an amount of information, the retrospect
of which afterwards surprised myself.
Young as I was, I was not so complete a greenhorn
as to reveal my precise circumstances to a
mere inquisitive stranger. My new acquaintance
contrived to impress me with the belief that he
was not actuated by common curiosity, and the
sympathy with which he listened had great effect
on one like myself, alone in an unfamiliar country,
and having as yet met nothing but rebuffs and
hope deferred.

I told him how I had been brought up to
consider myself as heir to my uncle, Mr. James
Hill, of Cockington, a man of considerable
property; how an unlucky misunderstanding, for
which I could not fairly consider myself to
blame, had arisen between the rich bachelor
uncle and the penniless nephew; and how, rather
than submit to what I esteemed injustice, I had
taken my name off the books at Cambridge, had
renounced all hope of my relative's inheritance,
and had undertaken to support myself. I told
him how, not having been brought up to any
profession, I had been baffled in every attempt to
gain employment in the densely-stocked labour
mart of the Old World; how, by the advice
of an old college chum (who had pressed a loan
of money upon me along with the advice), I
had started for America; how I had, as yet,
found no opening here. That very day I
had come back disappointed from the Susquehanna
canal-works, where I had hoped to be
engaged as a sub-surveyor, but had been rejected
for lack of practical knowledge. "Your mathematics,"
the head-surveyor had said, "are all
tarnation fine; but what I want is a chap that's
a dab with the dumpy and theodolite, and you
never, by your own showing, did a day's work
with the instruments. Sorry, but you won't suit."

My only hope now was, as I told the American,
to get engaged as mathematical teacher in
some school or college.

My sympathetic friend shook his head.

"Poor work, sir, that. Schoolmasters don't
count for much in our glorious Republic. The
two great powers of America, sir, are law and
commerce. They lead to Congress and the
Senate; to high diplomatic employ, the White
House, and what not. Law's out of my line;
but for commerce—hum! Would you like to be
a drummer?"

"A drummer?" said I, much surprised,
especially as my acquaintance had anything but a
military air; "what do you mean?"

The American arched his eyebrows, and so far
forgot his habitual courtesy as to murmur
something about "British ignorance," and then
proceeded to inform me that the duties of a drummer
were to make journeys, solicit orders, make
purchases, effect sales, bargain, call in debts, and
otherwise promote the interests of his employers.

"In fact, then," said I, "what you call a
drummer, is pretty much what we style a
commercial traveller."

"The identical functionary," said the Yankee;
"only, as this air a land of liberty and light,
the social station of a drummer is much
superior to that which he would occupy in your
antiquated island. Now, fact is, we want a
drummer, and if you find the salary and work to
your liking, and we arrange, you may draw your
twelve hundred dollars annual pay, with one per
cent on net profits, and travelling allowance as
liberal as Uncle Sam gives the Congress men.
This, sir, is our address."

He handed me a large limp card, glazed and
embossed, on which in pale gold letters
glimmered the words," Petter, Latch, and Jarman,
Fourth-street, New York, G. J."

"G. J.," said I, rather puzzled; "what is
G. J.?"