Soon after seven, I had arrived near the end of the long street; and I could see the colossal Custom-House, and its immense scaffolding. So far, I had not addressed myself to a single soul, and I was thinking I should have to search in another street; when, just at this time, I saw a gentleman of middle age seated in front of No. 3 store, reading a morning newspaper. From his sober dark alpaca suit and tall hat, I took him to be the proprietor of the building, over the door of which was the sign, ‘Speake and McCreary, Wholesale and Commission Merchants.’ He sat tilted back against what appeared to be the solid granite frame of the door, with a leisured ease which was a contrast to the activity I had previously noticed. After a second look at the respectable figure and genial face, I ventured to ask,-- ‘Do you want a boy, sir?’ ‘Eh?’ he demanded with a start; ‘what did you say?’ ‘I want some work, sir; I asked if you wanted a boy.’ ‘A boy,’ he replied slowly, and fixedly regarding me. ‘No, I do not think I want one. What should I want a boy for? Where do you hail from? You are not an American.’ ‘I came from Liverpool, sir, less than a week ago, by a packet-ship. I shipped as cabin-boy; but, when we got to sea, I was sent forward, and, until last night, I was abused the whole voyage. At last, I became convinced that I was not wanted, and left. As you are the first gentleman I have seen, I thought I would apply to you for work, or ask you for advice as to how to get it.’ ‘So,’ he ejaculated, tilting his chair back again. ‘You are friendless in a strange land, eh, and want work to begin making your fortune, eh? Well, what work can you do? Can you read? What book is that in your pocket?’ ‘It is my Bible, a present from our Bishop. Oh, yes, sir, I can read,’ I replied proudly. He held out his hand and said, ‘Let me see your Bible.’ He opened it at the fly-leaves, and smiled, as he read the inscription, ‘Presented to John Rowlands by the Right Revd. Thomas Vowler Short, D. D., Lord Bishop of St. Asaph, for diligent application to his studies, and general good conduct. January 5th, 1855.’ Returning it to me, he pointed to an article in his newspaper, and said, ‘Read that.’ It was something about a legislative assembly, which I delivered, as he said, ‘very correctly, but with an un-American accent.’ ‘Can you write well?’ he next asked. ‘Yes, sir, a good round-hand, as I have been told.’ ‘Then let me see you mark that coffee-sack, with the same address you see on the one near it. There is the marking-pot and brush.’ In a few seconds, I had traced ‘[Illustration: symbol] MEMPHIS, TENN.,’ and looked up. ‘Neatly done,’ he said; ‘now proceed and mark the other sacks in the same way.’ There were about twenty of them, and in a few minutes they were all addressed.