Arriving at the fine mansion on Chestnut Street the Irishman offered to pay his porter, who respectfully declined saying: “Oh, no, I only just carried the fish to oblige you. I do not need pay. I am a United States Senator. Good morning.” “There are few men who can call to mind more interesting reminiscences of ‘Auld Lang Syne,’ and tell them in a more agreeable manner than Henry B. Plant. Referring to his early manhood, Mr. Plant said recently: ‘I got my first experience in the express business when performing the service of a deckhand on a steamboat running between New Haven and New York in the latter part of the “thirties.” At the time referred to I was employed on the side-wheel steamer _New York_, which had for companion steamers the _New Haven_, _Splendid_, and _Bunker Hill_, on each one of which I served at one time or another. It was on the _New York_, however, that I spent the most of my apprenticeship. The deck-hands slept below in the forecastle, an uncomfortably small space in the “eyes” of the boat, and took our meals in the kitchen, standing up. Take it all in all it was rather rough on a fellow that had just left a good home, and when some of my towns-people would come aboard and catch me with swab or broom in hand I didn’t feel altogether happy, but had too much pluck to quit. One winter the _New York_ had been laid up for new boilers, and I was transferred to the _Splendid_ till the _New York_ was ready for service, and when she came out in the spring it was quite an event. She had two new copper boilers, one on each guard, the first to be placed on the guards.