Chapter 61 - Page 2

whose mouth was watering at the
recollection of that particular dish, which I had tasted at the sign of
the Turkey Cock before. So ham and eggs it was; and royal coffee, and
imperial toast.

But the butter!

"Harry, did you ever taste such butter as this before?"

"Don't say a word,"--said Harry, spreading his tenth slice of toast "I'm
going to turn dairyman, and keep within the blessed savor of butter, so
long as I live."

We made a breakfast, never to be forgotten; paid our bill with a
flourish, and sallied into the street, like two goodly galleons of gold,
bound from Acapulco to Old Spain.

"Now," said Harry, "lead on; and let's see something of these United
States of yours. I'm ready to pace from Maine to Florida; ford the Great
Lakes; and jump the River Ohio, if it comes in the way. Here, take my
arm;--lead on."

Such was the miraculous change, that had now come over him. It reminded
me of his manner, when we had started for London, from the sign of the
Golden Anchor, in Liverpool.

He was, indeed, in most wonderful spirits; at which I could not help
marveling; considering the cavity in his pockets; and that he was a
stranger in the land.

By noon he had selected his boarding-house, a private establishment,
where they did not charge much for their board, and where the landlady's
butcher's bill was not very large.

Here, at last, I left him to get his chest from the ship; while I turned
up town to see my old friend Mr. Jones, and learn what had happened
during my absence.

With one hand, Mr. Jones shook mine most cordially; and with the other,
gave me some letters, which I eagerly devoured. Their purport compelled
my departure homeward; and I at once sought out Harry to inform him.

Strange, but even the few hours' absence which had intervened; during
which, Harry had been left to himself, to stare at strange streets, and
strange faces, had wrought a marked change in his countenance. He was a
creature of the suddenest impulses. Left to himself, the strange streets
seemed now to have reminded him of his friendless condition; and I found
him with a very sad eye; and his right hand groping in his pocket.

"Where am I going to dine, this day week?"--he slowly said. "What's to be
done, Wellingborough?"

And when I told him that the next afternoon I must leave him; he looked
downhearted enough. But I cheered him as well as I could; though needing
a little cheering myself; even though I had got home again. But no more
about that.

Now, there was a young man of my acquaintance in the city, much my
senior, by the name of Goodwell; and a good natured fellow he was; who