r dancing before the Ark. In the other was
Jack the Rover and the Pirate Chief. How easy to guess the rest! Yet I
was not a bad boy--far from it. I only needed wise guidance and good
companionship, and as the ignorance and crudity of my character dropped
off, the innate virtue--mine by lawful heritage--would have been
developed. But pitchforked into the wild whirl of Wall street and its
fast set of gilded youth, the gates of the Primrose Way to destruction
were held wide open to my eager feet.

CHAPTER II.

"'TWAS EVER THUS." OF COURSE IT WAS.

The situation my father had obtained for me was with a sugar broker by
the name of Waterbury. He was a partner in a large refinery, his office
being in South Water street. He was a nice, conservative old man, and
let things run on easily. His chief clerk, Mr. Ambler, was every inch a
gentleman, who, quickly perceiving what an ignoramus I was, out of the
goodness of his heart resolved to teach me something.

There were two sharp young men in our office. They liked me well enough,
but used to guy me unmercifully for my simplicity and clumsiness. One of
them, Harry by name, was something of a scapegrace, and soon acquired
quite a power over me. I stood in much fear of his ridicule, and
frequently did things for which my conscience reproached me, rather than
stand the fire of his raillery. The greatest harm he did me was in
firing my imagination with stories of Wall street, of the fortunes that
were and could be made in the gold room or on 'Change. He made tolerably
clear the modus operandi of speculators, and I secretly resolved that
some day I, too, would try my fortune.

My friend Mr. Ambler's health was bad, and frequent attacks of illness
caused him to be away from the office for weeks at a time, and that
meant much loss to me. When I had been there about a year, he resigned
his position and went as manager for a factory in New Haven. But before
leaving he interested himself so far in my welfare as to secure me a
position with a firm of brokers in New street, at a salary of $10 a
week. My employers were good fellows, lovers of pleasure and men of the
world, not scrupling to talk freely with me of their various adventures
out of business hours. I had lost much of my awkwardness and gauche
manners, and under the $10 a week arrangement began to dress fairly
well. My employers did a brokerage business and speculated as well on
their own account. My duties were decidedly