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When I was twenty-seven years old, I was a mining-broker's clerk in San Francisco, and an expert in all the details of stock traffic.
I was alone in the world, and had nothing to depend upon but my wits and a clean reputation; but these were setting my feet in the road to eventual fortune, and I was content with the prospect.
My time was my own after the afternoon board, Saturdays, and I was accustomed to put it in on a little sail-boat on the bay.
One day I ventured too far, and was carried out to sea. Just at nightfall,when hope was about gone, I was picked up by a small brig which was bound for London.
It was a long and stormy voyage, and they made me work my passage without pay, as a common sailor. When I stepped ashore in London my clothes were ragged and shabby,and I had only a dollar in my pocket.
This money fed and sheltered me twenty-four hours. During the next twenty-four I went without food and shelter.
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