The next morning I said to father: "Give me my share of the profits for the last month," and he gave me one hundred and thirty dollars.

"I am going where no one knows me, mother, so good-bye.

You'll hear from me when I'm settled," and I was actually off on the nine o'clock New York express.
Every seat was full in every car but one--one seat beside a pretty, fashionably-dressed young lady was vacant.

I stood up against the wood-box and looked at that seat, as a boy looks at a jar of peppermint-drops in a candy-store window.

After a while I reflected that these people were all strangers, and, of course, unaware of my infirmity; this gave me a certain degree of courage.