Must have good voice.

Apply Clerk, Great Central Railway Station." Even this did not tempt me.

It might be a noble sphere of life to strive to make my voice heard above a dozen shrieking engines all day long, but I didn't quite fancy the idea.
In fact, as I read on and on, I became more and more convinced that my splendid talents would be simply wasted in London.

Nothing my uncle had marked tempted me.

A "muffin boy's" work might be pleasant for a week, till the noise of the bell had lost its novelty; a "boy to learn the art of making button-holes in braces" might perhaps be a promising opening; and a printer's boy might be all very well, but they none of them accorded with my own ideas, still less with my opinion of my own value.
I was getting rather hopeless, and wondering what on earth I should say to my uncle, when the brilliant idea occurred to me of looking at some of the other advertisements which my uncle hadn't marked.