too, and the next day was able to walk but twenty
miles, all told. On the way, at noon I went into a farm house to warm
myself. The woman had just baked a short-cake which stood on the
hearth, toward which I must have cast longing eyes, for the farmer said:

"Have you had your dinner, man?"

"No, and I have no money to buy any."

"Well, you don't need money here. Wife, put that short-cake and some
butter on the table; now, my man, fall to and eat as much as you like."

I was very hungry, and I declare I ate the whole of that short-cake.
I told these people that I had been in better circumstances, and that
I was not always the poor, ragged, hungry wretch I appeared then. They
made we welcome to what I had eaten and when I went away filled my
pockets with food. At night I was about thirty miles above Concord. I
had no money, but trusting to luck, I got on the cars--the conductor
came, and when he found I had no ticket, he said he must put me off. It
was a bitter night and I told him I should be sure to freeze to death.
A gentleman who heard the conversation at once paid my fare, for which I
expressed my grateful thanks, and I went to Concord.

On my arrival I went to a hotel and told the landlord I wanted to stay
there till the next day, when a conductor whom I knew would be going to
Meredith Bridge; that I was going with him, and that he would probably
pay my bill at the hotel. "All right," said the landlord, and he gave me
my supper and a room. The next noon my friend, the conductor, came and
when I first spoke to him he did not recognize me; I told him who I
was, but to ask me no questions as to how I came to appear in those old
clothes, and to be so poor; I wanted to borrow five dollars, and to go
with him to Meredith Bridge. He greeted me very cordially, handed me a
ten-dollar Bill--twice as much as I asked for--said he was not going to
the Bridge till next day, and told me meanwhile, to go to the hotel and
make myself comfortable.

I went back to the hotel, paid my bill, stayed there that day and night,
and the next morning "deadheaded," with my friend the conductor to
Meredith Bridge. Everybody knew me there. The hotel-keeper made me
welcome to his house, and said I could stay as long as I liked.

"Say, dew ye ever cure anybody, Doctor?" asked my old friend, the
landlord, and he laughed and nudged me in the ribs, and asked me to take
some of his medicine from the bar, which I immediately did.

I was at hom