CHAPTER XIII.
"Then, hey for boot and horse, lad, And round the world away! Young blood must have its course, lad, And every dog his day."-- C.

KINGSLEY.
Moses Benson was as good as his word in the matter of books of adventure.

Dirty books, some without backs, and some with very greasy ones (for which, if I bought them, I seldom paid more than half-price), but full of dangers and discoveries, the mightiness of manhood, and the wonders of the world.

I read them at odd moments of my working hours, and dreamed of them when I went home to bed.

And it was more fascinating still to look out, with Charlie's help, in the Penny Numbers, for the foreign places, and people, and creatures mentioned in the tales, and to find that the truth was often stranger than the fiction.
To live a fancy-life of adventure in my own head, was not merely an amusement to me at this time--it was a refuge.