98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 



to my father. I had thought I could find my way 

 but again I got lost and it was nearing train-time. 

 So, seeing a ragged boy scarcely larger than my va- 

 lise, I exclaimed: " Here, boy, carry my baggage," 

 in a tone such as I imagined a distinguished trav- 

 eller might use. "Where do you want to go?" 

 he asked. " Oh, to the New York Central depot," 

 I replied. But I had hardly begun to follow him 

 when it occurred to me that the boy the son of 

 a thief perhaps might get away with all my 

 treasures; and I planned to lay him low with the 

 family cane. When he finally led me safely to the 

 station, I gave him a quarter with the air of some 

 wealthy up-country farmer. It may appear to 

 you that this is an exaggerated account of a very 

 trivial affair but how serious it was to an ignorant, 

 imaginative boy whose mind had been filled with 

 blood-curdling stories by those lying up-state canal- 

 ers, is shown by the fact that I now remember it 

 much more distinctly than the city sights which I 

 had come to view. 



Arriving safely at home I was the envy of all 

 my school mates and was even looked up to by 

 some of my elders. From the time of this journey- 

 ing until I was about twenty I carpentered most of 

 the time in summer and spent the winters at the 



