ht of Lily deprived of her delicate evening
dresses, her diurnal bouquets, caramels, and her pecunious caprices,
was not pleasant. He could not see her in any light that made her so
agreeable as in the light that he must certainly cause her to lose.

Something practical must be done.

Naturally he looked into his pocket-book. There was eighteen dollars
in it--all the money he had. It was the last day in the month,
however, and he was entitled to draw one hundred and twenty-five
dollars. He shut his pocket-book and looked into his closet. He
found there several pairs of patent-leather boots and a brilliant
dressing-gown. "Pooh!" he said, peevishly, and shut the door. He then
examined his bureau: in its drawers were many socks, shirts, cravats,
four sets of studs and sleeve-buttons, and five scarf-pins. He rattled
the studs and buttons thoughtfully; but nothing came of it, and he
closed the drawers. His eye then fell on a dress-coat which he had
worn for the first time the evening before. He resolved to take the
coat back to Wiedenfeldt, his tailor. This resolve was the nucleus
probably of his future undertakings. He finished dressing and left the
house. Before reaching Wiedenfeldt he purchased and drank a bottle of
Congress Water. He also stopped at a favorite restaurant and made an
excellent breakfast, and came away with a "Relampagos"--a small
cigar of superior flavor--and three daily papers. His interview with
Wiedenfeldt was satisfactory; the coat was taken back, and when he had
settled the matter he felt as if a beginning had been made in a new
and right direction.

That afternoon he drew his pay, and walked up town. The moment he
entered his room his predicament fell upon him again, and his spirits
sunk. He sat on the edge of his bed, so quiet in his misery that he
began to hear the ticking of the watch in his pocket; it associated
itself in his mind with the sound and motion of railroad-cars. He felt
himself traveling hundreds of miles away, listening all the while to a
rhythmic sound, which said, "Many a mile, many a mile." Why should he
not go "many a mile, many a mile," in reality? He went out immediately
and bought a valise. After that his demeanor was settled and
tranquil. He then wrote three notes--to his chief, his Aunt Formica,
and Lily. The first was a note of resignation; the second conveyed the
information to his aunt that he was sick of his place, had thrown it
up, and was going out of town for a ch