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I had been reading a book about the life of a sailor—how nice it is to read about a sailor’s life!—and got the idea that I should like to be a sailor. So, one morning I got up betimes, when lazy people were snoring between the blankets. I clad myself in my best suit—one of splendid black, put on my watch, provided myself with plenty of money—my parents were not badly off—and started in search of a sailor’s life. It didn’t look like a very good beginning, did it? I tramped to Leeds, and there I had the—misfortune, I may safely say, to fall in with some of my thespian friends. They very willingly helped me to spend my money, so that when I left Leeds I had scarcely a penny in my pocket. But it was, perhaps, all for the best, as things turned. I walked to Goole, and from there to Hull. I lingered about the docks for some time, and then I fell in with the skipper of a vessel who was looking out for an addition to his crew. He asked me who I was. I, of course, told him and said I should like to be a sailor. He smiled when I said that, and said I looked more like a tailor than a sailor. But, then, I have said all along that appearances are deceptive, and that it isn’t always wise to rely on the label of the bag. It was simply a matter of taste with the skipper: he saw in me a nice chance of a suit of good clothes, &c., if nothing else. He questioned me: “would you run away if I took you on? You know some of you get tired of the first voyage.” I assured him that I wouldn’t run away, what other boys did. Whereupon it came to pass that he said that I was a likely young fellow, and I was engaged—I mean to the skipper, of course. I had to say a fond “Good-bye!” to my suit of black, watch, and other articles, and bedeck myself in a canvas suit, with red shirt, belt, and oil-skin cap. The name of the vessel was “The Greyhound,” and “The Greyhound” was laden with prepared stone and bound from Hull to London. We started. The voyage was a very rough one, and I was very, very sick the first day. I often think of my first day’s sailoring; I do that, I do. I was put to all manner of drudgery, such as scrubbing the decks. The cooking for the crew also fell into my hands; there were about a dozen of us. Fortunately, I had no need to complain of the lack of food. There was plenty of salt pork and biscuits; but, then, biscuits and salt pork and salt pork and biscuits have a tendency to become a little monotonous to the palate. I got very roughly handled by the crew. The voyage to London occupied about six days. We stayed at the English capital about a fortnight, in order to exchange our cargo for one of goods suitable for the Hull trade. Even while we were moored in the Thames, I was very anxious to make my escape, but a too close watch was kept over me. We started on the home journey, during which I was not affected by sea sickness.