Perhaps he got all that was good for him; it is well to train down a little occasionally; but Harlson wandered about sometimes with a feeling of sympathy for the wolf of the forest, the hawk of the air, and the pickerel of the waters, all hungry ever and all refusing to live by bread alone.
As time passed this condition of things wore upon the man.

His fancies, if not morbid, became a trifle ugly.

He worked feverishly, but he chafed at his own ignorance of city ways, such that he could not increase his income.

He sought manual labor which could be done at night, but failed even in this, for at that time he lacked utterly the way about him which fits the city, and persuades the man of business when there is little labor to be done.

It was almost a time of panic.
He would wander about the streets at night like a lost spirit.
Sometimes he would meet old college friends.