Upon spending the
last of his money one night--I think it was for a game of billiards--he
made up his mind that he would go out after work the next day. This he
did. He tramped the snowy streets early in the morning. He waded in the
slush at noon. He clambered over the frozen mud at night. But everywhere
it was dull. The employers were keeping their men simply to have them
when the busy season began. All would say:
"CALL IN NEXT MAY!"
His campaign in Chicago was methodic. He took a certain street each
day. He canvassed one side in the forenoon. He returned in the
afternoon, often carrying his lunch. He never lost hope. But oh! it was
discouraging to those who saw it. Another young man came from St. Louis
to the boarding-house and got a situation in a great dry-goods house, as
entry clerk, for he was a skilled man. This was unfortunate for our
friend, for the companionship of the St. Louis accession was a positive
injury. He resembled the pictures of Byron and was of a viciously
despondent turn of mind. He hated life and life's duties. Our friend
fell into the toils.
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