As he came out of the door over which was a diamond-pane lunette for a transom, he was a striking example of the new order of things which had come with the Declaration of Independence and the victory of the colonies over the British. Long trousers of light twilled cloth encased his legs, and were fastened under his shoes by straps. A flower-ornamented pink waistcoat and light blue dress coat of broadcloth, shared with brass buttons, yellow gloves, and an exceedingly narrow-brimmed silk hat, in giving his appearance that touch of completeness which the fashion of the day demanded. In the face of those of the older order, who still maintained the custom of wearing knee breeches and solemn, black waistcoats, he was a little apt to appear the exaggerated dandy; but, nevertheless, it was good form. My Madame Kortright would expect it at any luncheon of hers, and the common people knew it to be the all-desirable whenever wealth permitted. In lower Pearl Street, below Wall, which direction he took to reach the Bowling Green and the waterfront, he encountered a number of the fashionable, so far as the commercial world was concerned, who were anything but idle like himself. “Why, Master Walton, are you neglecting business so early in the morning?” inquired Robert Goelet, whose iron-mongering business was then the most important in the city. “For this day only,” returned Walton, smiling agreeably at the thought of a pleasant day to come. “Several engagements make it unavoidable.” “You are going to the Collect, then, possibly?” returned Goelet, looking in the direction of the old water reservoir, where all of the city’s drinking supply was stored. “No,” said the other, “I had not thought of it. What is there?” “Some one, I understand, who has a boat he wishes to try. It is said to go without sail. I should think one with as many ships upon the water as you have would have heard of any such invention as that.” “Ah, yes,” answered young Walton, “I have heard of men who are going to sail in the air, also. I will believe that a vessel can go without sail when I see it.” “Well,” said the other, “I do not know. These inventors are strange adventurers, at best, but there might be no harm in looking at it. I think I shall go myself later.” “Oh, I should also like to see it,” said the other, “providing I have time. When is it to sail, do you know?” “About eleven,” answered Goelet. “The _Post_ tells of it.” “Many thanks for the information,” returned the other, and, with a few commonplaces as to ships expected and the news from France, they betook their separate ways. In one of the many fine yards which spread before the old mansions below Wall Street, he beheld John Adams, the newly-elected President of the States, busy among his flowers. The elder statesman bowed gravely to the younger gentleman and returned to his work. “A fine gentleman,” thought the latter, “and well worthy to be the chief of this good government.”