"Well, Governor," said Jack, "I was brought up a blacksmith; and I've worked at carpentering, and printing too; and I've edited a newspaper; but--" There he was cut short by the laughter from those dignified men. "Good-bye, Jack," said the Governor, shaking hands with him. "I hope you'll have a good time in the city. You'll be sent back to the Capitol some day, perhaps." Jack returned to the clerk's counter to mail his letter, and found that gentleman looking at him as if he wondered what sort of a boy he might be. [Illustration: _The hotel clerk looked at Jack_.] "That young fellow knows all the politicians," said the clerk to one of the hotel proprietors. "He can't be so countrified as he looks." After dinner, Jack returned to his room for a long look at the guide-book. He went through it rapidly to the last leaf, and then threw it down, remarking: "I never was so tired! I'll take a walk around and see Albany a little more; and I'll not be sorry when the boat goes. I'd like to see Mary and the rest for an hour or two. I think they'd like to see me coming in, too." Jack sauntered on through street after street, getting a clearer idea of what a city was. He walked so far that he had some difficulty in returning to the hotel, but finally he found it without asking directions. Soon after, Jack brought down his satchel, said good-bye to the very polite clerk, and walked out. He had learned the way to the steamboat-wharf; and he had already taken one brief look at the river and the railway bridge. "There's the 'Columbia,'" he said, aloud, as he turned a street corner and came in sight of her. "What a boat! Why, if her nose was at the Main Street corner, by the Washington Hotel, her rudder would be half-way across the Cocahutchie!" He walked the wharf, staring at her from end to end, before he went on board. He had put Mr. Magruder's note into his pocket without reading it. "I won't open it here," he had said then. "There's nothing in it but a ticket." He found, however, that he must show the ticket at the gangway, and so he opened the envelope. "Three tickets?" he said. "And two are in one piece. This one is for a stateroom. That's the bunk I'm to sleep in. Hulloo! Supper ticket! I have supper on board the steamer, do I? Well, I'm not sorry. I'll have to hurry, too. It's about time for her to start." Jack went on board, and soon was hunting for his stateroom, almost bewildered by the rushing crowd in the great saloon. He had his key, and knew the number, but it seemed that there were about a thousand of the little doors. "One hundred and seventy-six is mine," he said; "and I'm going to put away my satchel and go on deck and see the river. Here it is at last. Why, it's a kind of little bedroom! It's as good as a floating hotel. Now I'm all right."