"I got up one morning, eat what little my anxiety would admit, went and sat down upon a seat in the Park, and contemplated the inclinations of the passers as they rushed by; fixed my eyes upon the city hall clock, as it struck ten, and thought the policemen cast an unusually sharp eye at me, as they sauntered by, and puzzled my brain to find some means of relief, for I had just received a letter from my wife, Polly, who was in a sad strait at home, which added to the amount of my own misfortunes. And while I was musing in this way, a street beggar appeared, and notwithstanding he was well dressed, demanded alms; and when I told him I had none to give, he set to cursing me right manfully, which was a custom with such knaves, who imitated the city fathers in more ways than one. And as if to show his contempt for one who had no alms to give, the knave threw me a shilling, which he advised me to spend for the washing of my linen, which he saw stood in much need of it. Remembering that I was a politician, I felt mortified enough, and summoning what little stock of courage I had left, I repaired to the hotel, resolved to be manly, and ask the loan of twenty dollars or so, just to get me over my difficulties-that is, to get out of the Astor and into humble lodgings. Being at that time skilled in the art of making calf brogans, necessity seemed pointing me to that as the only means of retrieving my fortunes. "On entering the hotel, the landlord kindly pointed me to my baggage, which he had brought down, having much need of his rooms, and carefully set in the office. This put an end to our acquaintance, as well as left me without courage enough to request the loan I had contemplated. I own the whole thing was done with much shrewdness, and was a decided improvement on being kicked into the street. But though I was neither a rogue nor a highwayman, I took up my valise and proceeded into the street, feeling like one whose dignity was never to be restored to him. After wandering about for some time, like one crazed with some religious phantasy, I found myself in front of a little house on Greene Street, with a paper on the walls, setting forth that lodgings were to be had within. I was in a mood to find comfort any where, so knocked at the shabby little door, and was admitted by a negro wench of great fatness, into a greasy little entry, from whence I was shown into a dingy parlor, crowded with well worn furniture. The mistress of the house, the negress said, would soon be home; and pointing me to some books that stood upon a dusty table, and interposed between a dilapidated sofa and an old fashioned tête-à-tête, bid me amuse myself. Then she gave me a broken fan, and seemed very generally anxious to make me comfortable. I took a seat in a dyspeptic arm chair, that kept up a curious clicking, and after waiting for some time, perplexed a little at first, consoled myself that others had troubles, perhaps worse than mine.