Early the next morning, Stormy started off to his work on the ship, and I to a newspaper office.
I reached the place too early to get out the papers; but found several boys waiting like myself. I joined their company, listened to them, and was much interested in their conversation, without very clearly comprehending what they were talking about.
I could distinctly hear every word they said; but the meaning of the words I knew not, for the most of them were slang phrases—such as I had never heard before.
I could see that they were very fast boys—much faster than I was—although the “Rolling Stone” had not been for several years rolling through the streets of Dublin, without learning some city sharpness.
I entered into conversation with two of the boys, in order to find out something of the business of news-vending; and could see from their manner that they regarded me, as they would have said, “not all thar.”
They pretended to give me such information as I required; but I afterwards learnt that they had not told me one word of truth.
When the papers were published, I went in with the others, put down a half dollar, and received in exchange the correct number of copies. I hurried out, walked some distance from the office, and commenced offering my wares for sale.
On turning down a wide street, I met three gentlemen, each of whom took a copy out of my hands and gave me a picayune in return.
I was doing business for myself—buying and selling; and in my soul arose a feeling of independence and pride that has never been so thoroughly awakened since.
I passed along the street, till I came to a large hotel, where I saw two other gentlemen under the verandah.