r another, leaving me to despair. The last
wreck lay on my table then,--a novel, worn with much journeying to and
fro, on which I had staked my last chance, and lost it.

"As I stood there at my window, cold and hungry, solitary and
despairing, I said to myself, in a desperate mood,--

"'It is all a mistake; I have no talent, and there is no room in the
world for me, so the quicker I get out of it the better.'

"Just then a little chap came from a gate opposite, with a shovel on his
shoulder, and trudged away, whistling shrilly, to look for a job. I
watched him out of sight, thinking bitterly,--

"'Now look at the injustice of it! Here am I, a young man full of
brains, starving because no one will give me a chance; and there is that
ignorant little fellow making a living with an old shovel!'"

A voice seemed to answer me, saying,--

"'Why don't you do the same? If brains don't pay, try muscles, and thank
God that you have health.'

"Of course it was only my own pluck and common sense; but I declare to
you I was as much struck by the new idea as if a strange voice _had_
actually spoken; and I answered, heartily,--

"'As I live I _will_ try it! and not give up while there is any honest
work for these hands to do.'

"With sudden energy I put on my shabbiest clothes,--and they were _very_
shabby, of course, added an old cap and rough comforter, as disguise,
and stole down to the shed where I had seen a shovel. It was early, and
the house was very quiet, for the other lodgers were hard workers all
the week, and took their rest Sunday morning.

"Unseen by the sleepy girl making her fires, I got the shovel and stole
away by the back gate, feeling like a boy out on a frolic. It was bitter
cold, and a heavy snow-storm had raged all night. The streets were full
of drifts, and the city looked as if dead, for no one was stirring yet
but milkmen, and other poor fellows like me, seeking for an early job.

"I made my way to the West End, and was trying to decide at which of the
tall houses to apply first, when the door of one opened, and a pretty
housemaid appeared, broom in hand.

"At sight of the snowy wilderness she looked dismayed, and with a few
unavailing strokes of her broom at the drift on the steps, was about to
go in, when her eye fell on me.

"My shovel explained my mission, and she beckoned with an imperious wave
of her duster to the shabby man opposite. I ploughed across, and
received in silence the order t