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[128] the printing-office in Chatham-street, the one which is most gleefully remembered is the following:—

Horace was, of course, subjected to a constant fire of jocular observations upon his dress, and frequently to practical jokes suggested by its deficiencies and redundancies. Men stared at him in the streets, and boys called after him. Still, however, he clung to his linen roundabout, his short trowsers, his cotton shirt, and his dilapidated hat. Still he wore no stockings, and made his wristbands meet with twine. For all jokes upon the subject he had deaf ears; and if any one seriously remonstrated, he would not defend himself by explaining, that all the money he could spare was needed in the wilderness, six hundred miles away, whither he punctually sent it. September passed and October. It began to be cold, but our hero had been toughened by the winters of Vermont, and still he walked about in linen. One evening in November, when business was urgent, and all the men worked till late in the evening, Horace, instead of returning immediately after tea, as his custom was, was absent from the office for two hours. Between eight and nine, when by chance all the men were gathered about the “composing stone,” upon which a strong light was thrown, a strange figure entered the office, a tall gentleman, dressed in a complete suit of faded broadcloth, and a shabby, over-brushed beaver hat, from beneath which depended long and snowy locks. The garments were fashionably cut; the coat was in the style of a swallow's tail; the figure was precisely that of an old gentleman who had seen better days. It advanced from the darker parts of the office, and emerged slowly into the glare around the composing stone. The men looked inquiringly. The figure spread out its hands, looked down at its habiliments with an air of infinite complacency, and said,—

‘Well, boys, and how do you like me now?’

‘Why, it's Greeley,’ screamed one of the men.

It was Greeley, metamorphosed into a decayed gentleman by a second-hand suit of black, bought of a Chatham-street Jew for five dollars.

A shout arose, such as had never before been heard at staid and regular 85 Chatham-street. Cheer upon cheer was given, and men

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