After a quick passage, we arrived in Boston.
My father I at once had placed in the asylum, after having invested nearly every dollar I had in bank stock, the dividends from which were guaranteed to the institution for his support, so long as he remained one of its inmates.

This was early in the last fall.

I had then but a few dollars left, and no income.

I was in a strange city, dependent entirely upon my own resources.

And what were they?
'What am I to do?
Where am I to go for employment ?' were questions I found hard indeed to answer.