bosom, and kissed him as tenderly as a cow laps her calf, and I also kissed the turnkey, whose keys terribly scared me. I soon went to a country boarding school, and terrified the farmers for miles around, who petitioned father to come after me, who visited the unsophisticated countrymen, and strove to tranquilise their nerves with the assurance that I would not contaminate their children, nor desolate their fields and orchards, and that it was the crows and not me that pilfered their early crops of fruits and vegetation. But they shook their heads, and besought him to restore the wonted quiet and confidence of the parish, by my immediate departure for some distant region. Father succumbed, and we left for Providence, where I became the very youthful clerk of Norman White, who is now an extensive type and paper merchant in Beekman street, with whom I remained until I left for New York with Jim Baker in the steamer Washington, Captain Bunker, concealing ourselves in the water closets until the boat passed Newport, when we appeared on deck, and strutted as boldly and proudly as Robert Macaire and his companion. But the Captain soon discovered us to be impostors, and made us pass pine wood to the firemen for our passage. Jim was older and stronger than me, and the Captain and first mate made him work like a slave; but I was seasick, and vomited dreadfully all over the deck, and the firemen, and passengers; and as the Captain slowly passed me, I belched a copious volley of the most bitter bile plumply in his face, for which he severely shook me, and made me express my sorrow for the dire calamity and apparent insult, and drove me down below, where I implored the Cook to throw me overboard, and relieve me from my deathly sickness. The nigger Cook laughed uproariously over my misfortunes, and declined my request, and brought me a stew composed of pork, molasses, and onions, for my dinner; and, as I smelt, and inhaled, and gazed upon the nauseous dish, I let fly a torrent of bile into the darkey’s face, who run for his life, and molested me no more during the voyage, and I never saw Sambo again. We arrived in New York, at Fulton market, and went to Holts’ Eating House, and ate heartily, and Jim Baker went in pursuit of work as a segar maker, and I tagged on behind. He got employment, and we boarded in Fulton street, near Broadway. I soon got a situation as bar keeper, with Mr. Saunders, in Laurens street, next to the theatre, and soon afterwards went a few doors above, in the basement, as bartender for Mr. Gilman. I then became a waiter in a New York and Albany steamboat, and afterwards in a Hartford steamer. I then went to an Intelligence office (whoso proprietor strove to cheat me), and for 50 cents got a situation with Wm. Chapman, No. 60 Pine street, at $2 a week, and boarded in Water street, near Beekman. Wm. H. Stansbury was Mr. Chapman’s book-keeper, who left soon after I came, and went with James Brooks, of the “_New York Express_,” as