Nelson followed Tim. The crowds, the ceaseless clatter of tongues and jar of wheels, depressed the man, who hardly knew which way to dodge the multitudinous perils of the thoroughfare; but Tim used his elbows to such good purpose that they were out of the levee, on the steamboat, and settling themselves in two comfortable chairs in a coign of vantage on deck, that commanded the best obtainable view of the pageant, before Nelson had gathered his wits together enough to plan a path out of the crush. “I sized up this place from the shore,” Tim sighed complacently, drawing a long breath of relief; “only jest two chairs, so we won't be crowded.” Obediently, Nelson took his chair. His head sank on his thin chest. Richards or himself, which should he sacrifice? So the weary old question droned through his brain. He felt a tap on his shoulder. The man who roused him was an acquaintance, and he stood smiling in the attitude of a man about to ask a favor, while the expectant half-smile of the lady on his arm hinted at the nature of the favor. Would Mr. Forrest be so kind?--there seemed to be no more seats. Before Mr. Forrest could be kind Tim had yielded his own chair and was off, wriggling among the crowd in search of another place. “Smart boy, that youngster of yours,” said the man; “he'll make his way in the world, he can push. Well, Miss Alma, let me make you acquainted with Mr. Forrest. I know you will be well entertained by him. So, if you'll excuse me, I'll get back and help my wife wrestle with the kids. They have been trying to see which will fall overboard first ever since we came on deck!” Under the leeway of this pleasantry he bowed and retired. Nelson turned with determined politeness to the lady. He was sorry that she had come, she looking to him a very fine lady indeed, with her black silk gown, her shining black ornaments, and her bright black eyes. She was not young, but handsome in Nelson's judgment, although of a haughty bearing. “Maybe she is the principal of the High School,” thought he. “Martin has her for a boarder, and he said she was very particular about her melons being cold!” But however formidable a personage, the lady must be entertained. “I expect you are a resident of the city, ma'am?” said Nelson. “Yes, I was born here.” She smiled, a smile that revealed a little break in the curve of her cheek, not exactly a dimple, but like one. “I don't know when I have seen such a fine appearing lady,” thought Nelson. He responded: “Well, I wasn't born here; but I come when I was a little shaver of ten and stayed till I was eighteen, when I went to Kansas to help fight the border ruffians. I went to school here in the Warren Street school-house.” “So did I, as long as I went anywhere to school. I had to go to work when I was twelve.” Nelson's amazement took shape before his courtesy had a chance to control it. “I didn't suppose you ever did any work in your life!” cried he.