_cicerone_. They called at the office of a colored lawyer and member of
the legislature, formerly from North Carolina, who, scenting a new
constituent and a possible client, greeted the stranger warmly, and in
flowing speech pointed out the superior advantages of life at the North,
citing himself as an illustration of the possibilities of life in a
country really free. As they wended their way homeward to dinner uncle
Wellington, with quickened pulse and rising hopes, felt that this was
indeed the promised land, and that it must be flowing with milk and
honey.

Uncle Wellington remained at the residence of Mr. Johnson for several
weeks before making any effort to find employment. He spent this period
in looking about the city. The most commonplace things possessed for him
the charm of novelty, and he had come prepared to admire. Shortly after
his arrival, he had offered to pay for his board, intimating at the same
time that he had plenty of money. Mr. Johnson declined to accept
anything from him for board, and expressed himself as being only too
proud to have Mr. Braboy remain in the house on the footing of an
honored guest, until he had settled himself. He lightened in some
degree, however, the burden of obligation under which a prolonged stay
on these terms would have placed his guest, by soliciting from the
latter occasional small loans, until uncle Wellington's roll of money
began to lose its plumpness, and with an empty pocket staring him in
the face, he felt the necessity of finding something to do.

During his residence in the city he had met several times his first
acquaintance, Mr. Peterson, the hackman, who from time to time inquired
how he was getting along. On one of these occasions Wellington mentioned
his willingness to accept employment. As good luck would have it, Mr.
Peterson knew of a vacant situation. He had formerly been coachman for a
wealthy gentleman residing on Oakwood Avenue, but had resigned the
situation to go into business for himself. His place had been filled by
an Irishman, who had just been discharged for drunkenness, and the
gentleman that very day had sent word to Mr. Peterson, asking him if he
could recommend a competent and trustworthy coachman.

"Does you know anything erbout hosses?" asked Mr. Peterson.

"Yas, indeed, I does," said Wellington. "I wuz raise' 'mongs' hosses."

"I tol' my ole boss I 'd look out fer a man, an' ef you reckon you kin
fill de 'quirements er de situati