us.--But for my
old gentleman. I have decidedly picked up an acquaintance, if not made a
friend. I gave him a very good cigar; and before we reached home, we had
become thoroughly intimate. In exchange for my cigar, he gave me his
name; and there was that in his tone which seemed to imply that I had by
no means the worst of the bargain. His name is Richard Blunt, "though
most people," he added, "call me Captain, for short." He then proceeded
to inquire my own titles and pretensions. I told him no lies, but I told
him only half the truth; and if he chooses to indulge mentally in any
romantic understatements, why, he is welcome, and bless his simple
heart! The fact is, that I have broken with the past. I have decided,
coolly and calmly, as I believe, that it is necessary to my success, or,
at any rate, to my happiness, to abjure for a while my conventional
self, and to assume a simple, natural character. How can a man be simple
and natural who is known to have a hundred thousand a year? That is the
supreme curse. It's bad enough to have it: to be known to have it, to be
known only because you have it, is most damnable. I suppose I am too
proud to be successfully rich. Let me see how poverty will serve my
turn. I have taken a fresh start. I have determined to stand upon my
own merits. If they fail me, I shall fall back upon my millions; but
with God's help I will test them, and see what kind of stuff I am made
of. To be young, to be strong, to be poor,--such, in this blessed
nineteenth century, is the great basis of solid success. I have resolved
to take at least one brief draught from the pure founts of inspiration
of my time. I replied to the Captain with such reservations as a brief
survey of these principles dictated. What a luxury to pass in a poor
man's mind for his brother! I begin to respect myself. Thus much the
Captain knows: that I am an educated man, with a taste for painting;
that I have come hither for the purpose of cultivating this taste by the
study of coast scenery, and for my health. I have reason to believe,
moreover, that he suspects me of limited means and of being a good deal
of an economist Amen! _Vogue la galere!_ But the point of my story is in
his very hospitable offer of lodgings. I had been telling him of my ill
success of the morning in the pursuit of the same. He is an odd union of
the gentleman of the old school and the old-fashioned, hot-headed
merchant-captain. I suppose that certain traits