ve here in his own language, for a
merry girl is about to laugh at the Boston boy as she sees him pass, and
he will cause this lovely girl to laugh with him many times in his
rising career and in different spirit from that on the occasion when she
first beheld him, the awkward and comical-looking boy wandering he knew
not where on the street.

Let us follow him through his own narrative until he meets the eyes of
Deborah Read, a fair lass of eighteen.

On his arrival at Philadelphia, he tells us, he was in his working
dress; his best clothes were to come by sea. He was covered with dirt;
his pockets were filled with shirts and stockings. He was unacquainted
with a single soul in the place, and knew not where to seek for a
lodging. Fatigued with walking, rowing, and having passed the night
without sleep, he was extremely hungry, and all his money consisted of a
Dutch dollar and about a shilling's worth of coppers, which latter he
gave to the boatman for his passage.

He walked toward the top of the street, looking eagerly on both sides,
till he came to Market Street, where he met with a child with a loaf of
bread. Often he had made his dinner on dry bread. He inquired of the
child where he had bought the bread, and went straight to the baker's
shop which the latter pointed out to him. He asked for some biscuits,
expecting to find such as they had in Boston; but they made, it seems,
none of that sort in Philadelphia. He then asked for a threepenny loaf.
They made no loaves of that price. Finding himself ignorant of the
prices as well as of the different kinds of bread, he desired the baker
to let him have threepenny worth of bread of some kind or other. The
baker gave him three large rolls. He was surprised at receiving so much;
he took them, however, and having no room in his pockets, he walked on
with a roll under each arm, eating the third. In this manner he went
through Market Street to Fourth Street, and passed the house of Mr.
Read, the father of his future wife. The girl was standing at the door,
observed him, and thought with reason that he made a very singular and
grotesque appearance, and laughed merrily. We repeat the many-times-told
tale in nearly his own words.

So here we find our young adventurer laughed at again. We can fancy the
young girl standing on her father's doorsteps on that mellow autumn day.
There comes up the street a lad with two rolls of bread under his arm,
and eating a third roll, his po