We boys all became smelters, and for a very good reason. There was a
market for soft solder; we could dispose of it without difficulty; we
could in this way put money in our purse and experience the glorious
emotion awakened by the spirit of independence. With our own money,
earned in the sweat of our brows--it was pretty hot work melting the
solder out of the old cans and moulding it in little pig-leads of our
own invention,--we could do as we pleased and no questions asked. Oh, it
was a joy past words,--the kindling of the furnace fires, the adjusting
of the cans, the watching for the first movement of the melting solder!
It trickled down into the ashes like quicksilver, and there we let it
cool in shapeless masses; then we remelted it in skillets (usually
smuggled from the kitchen for that purpose), and ran the fused metal
into the moulds; and when it had cooled we were away in haste to dispose
of it.

Some of us became expert amateur metallists, and made what we looked
upon as snug little fortunes; yet they did not go far or last us long.
The smallest coin in circulation was a dime. No one would accept a
five-cent piece. As for coppers, they are scarcely yet in vogue. Money
was made so easily and spent so carelessly in the early days the wonder
is that any one ever grew rich.

A quarter of a dollar we called two "bits." If we wished to buy anything
the price of which was one bit and we had a dime in our pocket, we gave
the dime for the article, and the bargain was considered perfectly
satisfactory. If we had no dime, we gave a quarter of a dollar and
received in change a dime; we thus paid fifty per cent more for the
article than we should have done if we had given a dime for it. But that
made no difference: a quarter called for two bits' worth of anything on