“A couple of shirts, three collars, two handkerchiefs, and a pair of stockings.”
“And you are going a journey of thousands of miles! But never mind,” he said kindly. “I am not much larger than you, and, if you need it, I can lend you. Once in California, you will have less trouble than if you were loaded down with clothes. I must get you to tell me your story when there is time.”
They came on deck just in time to see the steamer swing out of the dock.
There were some of the passengers with sober faces. They had bidden farewell to friends and relatives whom they might not see for years—perhaps never again. They were going to a new country, where hardships undoubtedly awaited them, and where they must take their chances of health and success. Some, too, feared seasickness, a malady justly dreaded by all who have ever felt its prostrating effects. But Joe only felt joyful exhilaration.
“You look happy, Joe,” said young Folsom.
“I feel so,” said Joe.
“Are you hoping to make your fortune in California?”
“I am hoping to make a living,” said Joe.
“Didn’t you make a living here at home?”
“A poor living, with no prospects ahead. I didn’t mind hard work and poor clothes, if there had been a prospect of something better by and by.”