sed Earl Planetree, and
which Lady Dasher had given me as a useful parting present, I had left
behind in England, thinking that such a valuable object of antiquity
should not be recklessly risked.

The police then telegraphed for me to come north--while I was enjoying
the canvas-backed ducks of "Maryland, my Maryland," and nursing my
vengeance. I came "up north;" but it was of no use. I never saw Brown
of Philadelphia again, or recovered my lost capital.

It had gone where the good, or bad, niggers go; and I only hope "Brown"
has gone there too!

This misfortune filled up the measure of my troubles, though they were
numerous enough already.

To get employment of a regular character, which became more necessary to
me now than ever--was as impossible as it had been all along!

Nobody seemed to want anybody like me, in spite of my being not
unskilled in foreign languages, and up to clerk's work--having not yet
forgotten the book-keeping which my crammer had crammed into me for the
benefit of the "Polite Letter Writer Commissioners."

I was not actually in necessity, as I had still sufficient funds left to
defray my bare living expenses for some months, with strict economy; but
I had not come to America merely to exist! I had left home to make my
fortune, I tell you; and, how could I be satisfied at this state of
things? I was losing time, day by day; and not approaching one whit
nearer to the object of my life!

In addition to these reflections, I had found out the truth of the time-
honoured maxim, "coelum non animam mutant qui trans mare currunt."--I
might go from the old world to the new; but I could not leave my old
memories, my old thoughts behind me!

At first, the novelty of things about me distracted my attention.

I was in a strange country amongst fresh faces, all connected only with
the present, so that, I had little time to look back on the past.

Besides, I was hopeful of carving out a new career for myself; and hope
is a sworn antagonist to retrospection.

But, as I began to get used to the place and people, never-forgotten
scenes and associations came back to mind, which I felt were more
difficult to banish now, three thousand miles away, than when I was on
the spot with which they had been connected.

Oh! how, bustled about amidst a crowd of unsympathising strangers, to
whom our domestic life is only an ideality, I longed for the quiet and
charm and love of an English home!

I think that