ly difficult and tedious.
Several men had tried their hand at it, and, in a few days or a few hours, given it up. The foreman looked at Horace, and Horace looked at the foreman.
Horace saw a handsome man (now known to the sporting public as Colonel Porter, editor of the Spirit of the Times.) The foreman beheld a youth who could have gone on the stage, that minute, as Ezekiel Homespun without the alteration of a thread or a hair, and brought down the house by his getting up alone.
He no more bn, and had been washed in blackened water and ironed smooth.
A week's wear brought out all its pristine shabbiness, and developed new.
Our hero was not, perhaps, quite so indifferent to his personal appearance as he seemed.
One day, when Colonel Porter happened to remark that his hair had once been as white as Horace Greeley's, Horace said with great earnestness, Was it?—as though he drew from that fact a hope that his own hair might darken as he grew older.
And on another occasion, when h
go, on the first of January last—that being a holiday, and the writer being then a stranger with few social greetings to exchange in New York—he inquired his way into the ill-furnished, chilly, forlorn-looking attic printing-office in which William T. Porter, in company with another very young man, who soon after abandoned the enterprise, had just issued the Spirit of the Times, the first weekly journal devoted entirely to sporting intelligence ever attempted in this country.
It was a moderate them possessed a persevering spirit and an ardent enthusiasm for the pursuit to which he had devoted himself.
And, consequently, the Spirit of the Times still exists and flourishes, under the proprietorship of its originator and founder, Colonel Porter.
For this paper, our hero, during his short stay in the office, composed a multitude of articles and paragraphs, most of them short and unimportant.
As a specimen of his style at this period, I copy from the Spirit of May 5th, 1832, the fol