FIRST DAYS IN WALL STREET 37 



Another chum of those days was the pilot of 

 one of the ferry boats, whose craft I seldom failed 

 to catch. Always I crossed in his pilot house, 

 and often took the wheel while he taught me the 

 rules of the game. I became a fair judge of 

 speed and distance and warned back steam-driven 

 craft with confident signals, while yielding the 

 right of way to the humblest sailboat. I learned 

 to estimate the strength of the tide until I could 

 usually send the boat into the slip scarcely touch- 

 ing the piles and bring up at the bridge with 

 gentleness. 



But there comes a time near the turn of the tide 

 when the mid-stream current flows counter to the 

 one near the banks, and then the very elect are 

 likely to be at fault. On one such occasion I was 

 torn from the wheel and sent flying by the scared 

 pilot, who yet wasn't in time to prevent a mix-up 

 which could only be straightened out by backing 

 far out in the river. 



"You'll never let me pilot again," said I sadly. 



"You come here to-morrow and see. The best 

 of us can't always hit the slip just right, and I 



