Father and I walked over from Allegheny to Pittsburgh, a distance of nearly two miles from our house.

Arrived at the door I asked father to wait outside.

I insisted upon going alone upstairs to the second or operating floor to see the great man and learn my fate.

I was led to this, perhaps, because I had by that time begun to consider myself something of an American.

At first boys used to call me "Scotchie! Scotchie!" and I answered, "Yes, I'm Scotch and I am proud of the name." But in speech and in address the broad Scotch had been worn off to a slight extent, and I imagined that I could make a smarter showing if alone with Mr.Brooks than if my good old Scotch father were present, perhaps to smile at my airs.
I was dressed in my one white linen shirt, which was usually kept sacred for the Sabbath day, my blue round-about, and my whole Sunday suit.