“I will. I like his pluck.”
“He has no false pride. He is ready to do anything.”
“Everybody is here. You know Jim Graves, who used to have his shingle up as a lawyer on Nassau Street?”
“Yes. Is he here?”
“He has been here three months. What do you think he is doing?”
“I couldn’t guess.”
“I don’t think you could. He has turned drayman.” Charles Folsom gazed at his friend in wonder.
“Turned drayman!” he exclaimed. “Is he reduced to that?”
“Reduced to that! My dear fellow, you don’t understand the use of language. Graves is earning fifteen dollars a day at his business, and I don’t believe he made that in New York in a month.”
“Well, it is a strange state of society. Does he mean to be a drayman all his life?”