well; what is more
to the point, he had the whole charge of Perry's commissariat on shore
at Yokohama, was honorably discharged out there, reads Japanese better
than you read English; and if it will help you at all, he shall be here
at your house at breakfast." For as I spoke we stopped at Coram's door.
"Ingham," said Coram, "if you were not a parson, I should say you were
romancing." "My child," said I, "I sometimes write a parable for the
Atlantic; but the words of my lips are verity, as all those of the
Sandemanians. Go to bed; do not even dream of the Taghalian dialects; be
sure that the Japanese interpreter will breakfast with you, and the next
time you are in a scrape send for the nearest minister. George, tell
your brother Ezra that Mr. Coram wishes him to breakfast here to-morrow
morning at eight o'clock; don't forget the number, Pemberton Square, you
know." "Yes, sir," said George; and Thomas Coram laughed, said "Merry
Christmas," and we parted.

It was time we were all in bed, especially these boys. But glad
enough am I as I write these words that the meeting of Coram set us
back that dropped-stitch in our night's journey. There was one more
delay. We were sweeping by the Old State House, the boys singing
again, "Carol, carol, Christians," as we dashed along the still
streets, when I caught sight of Adams Todd, and he recognized me. He
had heard us singing when we were at the Advertiser office. Todd is
an old fellow-apprentice of mine,--and he is now, or rather was that
night, chief pressman in the Argus office. I like the Argus
people,--it was there that I was South American Editor, now many
years ago,--and they befriend me to this hour. Todd hailed me, and
once more I stopped. "What sent you out from your warm steam-boiler?"
"Steam-boiler, indeed," said Todd. "Two rivets loose,--steam-room
full of steam,--police frightened,--neighborhood in a row,--and we
had to put out the fire. She would have run a week without hurting a
fly,--only a little puff in the street sometimes. But there we are,
Ingham. We shall lose the early mail as it stands. Seventy-eight
tokens to be worked now." They always talked largely of their edition
at the Argus. Saw it with many eyes, perhaps; but this time, I am
sure, Todd spoke true. I caught his idea at once. In younger and more
muscular times, Todd and I had worked the Adams press by that
fly-wheel for full five minutes at a time, as a test of strength; and
in my mind's eye, I sa