He writes: "Early next morning.

I started for Philadelphia, a place where I had never been.

I sort of felt lonesome as I went down to the steamboat.
The idea of going among a new people, where there are tens of thousands who would pass me by without knowing or caring who I was, who are all taken up with their own pleasures or their own business, made me feel small; and, indeed, if any one who reads this book has a grand idea of his own importance, let him go to a big city, and he will find that he is not higher valued than a coonskin.
"The steamboat was the Carroll of Carrollton, a fine craft, with the rum old Commodore Chaytor for head man.

A good fellow he is--all sorts of a man--bowing and scraping to the ladies, nodding to the gentlemen, cursing the crew, and his right eye broad-cast upon the 'opposition line,' all at the same time.

'Let go!' said the old one, and off we walked in prime style.
"Our passage down Chesapeake Bay was very pleasant.