"I did not get to see many of the firm members themselves; their offices are formidable places. There is no office in Macochee like them; they have big outer rooms, full of stenographers and clerks and there is a boy at a desk who makes you tell your business before you can get in to see any of the lawyers themselves. They seem to be mighty big, important fellows. Most of them would not see me at all; several said they had no place for me and dismissed me with a kind of pitying smile; one man, when I asked him if he thought there was an opening, said he supposed there ought to be, as one lawyer in Chicago had died of starvation only the day before. But some were kinder; one, whom I shall never forget, took pains to sit down and talk with me a long time, but he was no more encouraging than the others. He said the profession was terribly overcrowded, 'that is,' he corrected himself with a tired smile, 'if you can call it a profession any longer. It is more of a business nowadays and the only ones who get ahead are those who have big corporations for clients. How they all live is a mystery to me!' He thought I had better not undertake it and advised me to go into some business. But then most of them did that. "But I must tell you of my visit to Judge Johnson. You will remember my telling you of him; he was Wade Powell's chum in the law school in Cincinnati, and Mr. Powell had given me a letter to him. I had a hard time seeing him; the hardest of all. When I went into the big stone government building he was holding court, and a lawyer was making an argument before him. I waited till they were all done, and then when the crier had adjourned court--he said 'Oyez, Oyez, Oyez,' instead of the 'Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye' we have in Ohio; it sounded so old and quaint, even if he did say 'Oh yes,' for 'Oyez!' It comes from the old Norman-French, you know; ask your father about it, he'll explain it--I tried to get in to him. I succeeded at last, but it was hard work. He didn't seem glad to see me; he looked at me coldly, and made me feel as if I ought to hurry up and state my business promptly and get away. When I gave him Wade Powell's letter he put on his gold glasses and read it; but--what do you think?--I don't believe he remembered Wade Powell at all! At least he seemed not to. Of course he may have been putting it on. Wouldn't it make Wade Powell mad to know that? I'd give a dollar--and I haven't any to spare either--to see him when he hears that his old friend, Judge Johnson of the United States Circuit Court, couldn't remember him! Well, the judge didn't let me detain him long, he looked at his watch a moment, and then he advised me not to try it in Chicago; he said there were too many lawyers here anyhow, and that he thought a young man made a mistake in coming to a city at all.