things, less objectionable except in one feature.

It now became my duty to bathe the newly made spools in vats of oil.
Fortunately there was a room reserved for this purpose and I was
alone, but not all the resolution I could muster, nor all the
indignation I felt at my own weakness, prevented my stomach from
behaving in a most perverse way. I never succeeded in overcoming the
nausea produced by the smell of the oil. Even Wallace and Bruce proved
impotent here. But if I had to lose breakfast, or dinner, I had all
the better appetite for supper, and the allotted work was done. A real
disciple of Wallace or Bruce could not give up; he would die first.

My service with Mr. Hay was a distinct advance upon the cotton
factory, and I also made the acquaintance of an employer who was very
kind to me. Mr. Hay kept his books in single entry, and I was able to
handle them for him; but hearing that all great firms kept their books
in double entry, and after talking over the matter with my companions,
John Phipps, Thomas N. Miller, and William Cowley, we all determined
to attend night school during the winter and learn the larger system.
So the four of us went to a Mr. Williams in Pittsburgh and learned
double-entry bookkeeping.

One evening, early in 1850, when I returned home from work, I was told
that Mr. David Brooks, manager of the telegraph office, had asked my
Uncle Hogan if he knew where a good boy could be found to act as
messenger. Mr. Brooks and my uncle were enthusiastic draught-players,
and it was over a game of draughts that this important inquiry was
made. Upon such trifles do the most momentous consequences hang. A
word, a look, an accent, may affect the destiny not only of
individuals, but of nations. He is a bold man who calls anything a