All that time I was in Dublin, I tried to get employment but nobody had any use for me--until at last, when I was all but dying of hunger, somebody spoke to me of a certain Milligan, a young and very rich man living in Dublin.

I resolved to go and see him, and a lucky day it was.

You remember Conolly--Bates's traveller?
Well, Milligan is just that man, in appearance; a thorough Irishman, and one of the best hearted fellows that ever lived.

Though he's rich I found him living in a very plain way, in a room which looked like a museum, full of fossils, stuffed birds and animals, queer old pictures, no end of such things.

Well, I told him plainly who I was, and where I was; and almost without thinking, he cried out--'What could be simpler?
Come and be my secretary.'-- 'You want a secretary ?'--'I hadn't thought of it,' said Milligan, 'but now it strikes me it's just what I _do_ want.