CHAPTER III.


I rose at the dawn, and, without asking or bestowing a blessing, sallied
forth into the highroad to the city, which passed near the house. I left
nothing behind, the loss of which I regretted. I had purchased most of
my own books with the product of my own separate industry, and, their
number being, of course, small, I had, by incessant application, gotten
the whole of them by rote. They had ceased, therefore, to be of any
further use. I left them, without reluctance, to the fate for which I
knew them to be reserved, that of affording food and habitation to mice.

I trod this unwonted path with all the fearlessness of youth. In spite
of the motives to despondency and apprehension incident to my state, my
heels were light and my heart joyous. "Now," said I, "I am mounted into
man. I must build a name and a fortune for myself. Strange if this
intellect and these hands will not supply me with an honest livelihood.
I will try the city in the first place; but, if that should fail,
resources are still left to me. I will resume my post in the cornfield
and threshing-floor, to which I shall always have access, and where I
shall always be happy."

I had proceeded some miles on my journey, when I began to feel the
inroads of hunger. I might have stopped at any farm-house, and have
breakfasted for nothing. It was prudent to husband, with the utmost
care, my slender stock; but I felt reluctance to beg as long as I had
the means of buying, and I imagined that coarse bread and a little milk
would cost little even at a tavern, when any farmer was willing to