“I am a most lucky disciple of Faust,” said he, “I've had a supper fit for a lord, and a couch where the imperial form of sovereignty might repose unruffled--and did--for I'm an august representative of American sovereignty! What next? If the good angel of the lonely widow and her little ones don't now desert me, I stand 'a right smart chance' of getting a breakfast into the bargain!--Well,” concluded John, “this is too much luck for weak human nature to bear easily, so it is necessary to nerve myself, or I shall be overcome.” Dressing himself, he descended to the kitchen, and made the acquaintance of the younger Jo Simms, who appeared very backward in breaking to our hero the sad news of his rejection as help in the yard. At length, however, he kindly broke the intelligence, and before John could answer he offered him two dollars to pay his expenses back, and, moreover, invited him to partake of the smoking repast just preparing. “Say no more about it, my dear sir,” says John, “such liberality removes the pain of disappointment.” It was refreshing to see how his phiz lighted up at his luck, and all parties being perfectly satisfied, they enjoyed the morning meal with a relish. As John was about to depart, the good old dame rolled him up a lunch of short cake, and he bid farewell to brick making. In a short time he arrived at Chicago, where he obtained work at his business, but the exposure he had undergone brought on the fever and ague, which shook him out of all respect for Illinois, and he therefore determined to leave it, so embarking one bright morning, he shook it an adieu which made his teeth chatter, which excitement was of course followed by a most subduing fever.