It was impossible for me to avoid recalling the fact that he had not made me the slightest offer of assistance, while my generous benefactor had not only loaned me money, but given me some three hours of his time--the last, possibly, being the greatest amount of kindness. "How?" said my uncle, knitting his brows. "Are not you the son of Mr. ----, of Galena?" "Yes." "And you were born there?" "Of course, I was." "Your father had a brother in this city?" "I know he had." "Then, I am that brother and your uncle. You know it, for you spoke to me only yesterday." "Did I?" was my angry exclamation. Making another bow to the Mayor, I turned and walked out, leaving my disgusted uncle to stare, and, if he was given to profanity, to swear after me. The pop-corn business, so strangely commenced, grew and prospered. From my one small basket, it gradually extended itself. At last a regiment--or rather one small company of boys--with cans containing it, with the name of "Mose" painted on them, strapped upon their shoulders, sold pop-corn in the streets, the cars, the theatres, and the hotels. Why or how I came to take the name of "Mose," it is perhaps difficult to say. But I had commenced life in the Circus, when the "Mose" of Chanfrau was an universally quoted name throughout the country. It had been my name on the bills with Dan Rice, Older and Orton, and Levi North. Remaining in my memory, it probably stuck to me when I embarked in my new calling. [Illustration: "The pop-corn business, so strangely commenced, grew and prospered."--_Page 16._] Comparative wealth seemed to be pouring in on me. In a measure, I was becoming not only a lad of means, but somewhat locally celebrated under the name of my adoption. To account for my rapidly gaining money, it must be remembered that one bushel of shelled, makes eleven of popped corn. My profits were consequently in proportion, even if the whole trade of Chicago, in this thriftily manufactured commodity, had not been in my hands. With the termination of my winter's sale of pop-corn which closed, I may state, with gratification, with as much gain for the good Mr. Dobbs as for myself, I had again to think of employment. Luckily, the results of my two accidents were now entirely healed, and although I could scarcely have risked appearing yet in the circus, I saw no reason to preclude me from going behind the footlights. After some difficulty, theatricals being less overstocked then, than now, I obtained an engagement at Rice's, latterly known as MacVicker's Theatre. It was here decided that comic business was my "line," and the public, not unnaturally, were more than kind to one whom pop-corn had made a sort of favorite.