36 WALL STREET AND THE WILDS 



"Oh, for boyhood's time of June, 

 Crowding years in one brief moon." 



I was in my dreamland of Wall Street, and 

 although it was not exactly at my feet as I had 

 planned, yet I had hopes. Then I was getting 

 acquainted. First came the pastor of the church 

 I attended, who had come from Massachusetts, 

 where his parish adjoined my father's. He 

 looked after me as I could wish a son of mine to 

 be cared for in a country that was new to him. 



My next friend was stout, jolly Jordan, who 

 sat at the Jersey City ferry entrance. Except- 

 ing on the first day of the month he never looked 

 at my ticket, but passed me into the ferry house 

 with a wave of his hand and a cheery word. 

 Often when the boat was not in he held me back 

 for a chat. He took walks with me on Sunday 

 and taught me some of the ways of the metropoli- 

 tan world of which I knew so little. Sometimes 

 I compare him, but never to his disadvantage, 

 with his more famous brother whom I knew later, 

 who controlled the hundreds of millions of a great 

 life insurance company. 



