riking contrast with my
condition when I left Boston not five months before. Disappointment had
laid on my spirits a heavy hand, and there were no particularly cheering
scenes in perspective. I would gladly have returned to my home, there
to have recovered the full use of my fractured limb before I embarked
on any new enterprise. But I had no means of getting from New York to
Boston, and through a feeling of pride, far from commendable, I was
unwilling to make application to my relatives for pecuniary assistance.
I did not even write to inform them of my return to the United States.

The question now came up, "What shall I do to improve my condition and
gain a livelihood?" Lame as I was, I dared not undertake to ship in a
square-rigged vessel, or even a "topsail schooner," where it might often
be necessary to go aloft. I tried to get a berth in a coaster, or small
vessel trading to the West Indies, where gymnastic feats would not be
required. I applied to many skippers but without success. Even the proud
captain of a rusty-looking old craft, that could hardly be kept afloat
in the harbor, looked sour and sulky, and shook his head with as much
significance as Lord Burleigh himself, when I inquired if he was in want
of a hand! Either my looks were unpromising, or this class of vessels
were well supplied with men. In the mean time my board bill was running
up, and my landlord looked as grave as an oyster, and his manners were
as rough as the outside of the shell.

Passing through Maiden Lane one day, I saw a gentleman whom I had
formerly known, standing in the doorway of a bookstore. I had boarded in
his family several weeks after my recovery from fever and ague. He,
as well as his wife, at that time professed a strong interest in my
prosperity. When I left them, and entered on my voyage to South
America in the Clarissa, they bade me farewell with protestations of
an affection as warm and enduring as if I had been a near and dear
relative. It is therefore not wonderful that when I spied Mr. Robinson
my heart yearned towards him. I had encountered a friend in that
overgrown city; I saw a familiar face the first for many months. Without
CALCULATING whether he could be of service to me, or whether it was
proper to appear before him in apparel more remarkable for its antiquity
and simplicity than its gentility, I obeyed the dictates of an honest
heart, rushed towards him, and grasped his hand. Perceiving his
astonishment, and