enough to be called a sheep's tail, and therefore should be hung
on behind, as is shown by the list.

The reason of my being in this country of Virginia at so young an
age, is directly concerned with that brave soldier and wondrous
adventurer, Captain John Smith, of whom I make no doubt the people
in this new world, when the land has been covered with towns
and villages, will come to know right well, for of a truth he is
a wonderful man. In the sixth month of Grace, 1606, I Was living
as best I might in that great city of London, which is as much a
wilderness of houses, as this country is a wilderness of trees. My
father was a soldier of fortune, which means that he stood ready
to do battle in behalf of whatsoever nation he believed was in the
right, or, perhaps, on the side of those people who would pay him
the most money for risking his life.

He had fought with the Dutch soldiers under command of one Captain
Miles Standish, an Englishman of renown among men of arms, and
had been killed. My mother died less than a week before the news
was brought that my father had been shot to death. Not then fully
understanding how great a disaster it is to a young lad when he
loses father or mother, and how yet more sad is his lot when he
has lost both parents, I made shift to live as best I might with a
sore heart; but yet not so sore as if I had known the full extent
of the misfortune which had overtaken me.

At first it was an easy matter for me to get food at the home of
this lad, or of that, among my acquaintances, sleeping wherever
night overtook me; but, finally, when mayhap three months had gone
by, my welcome was worn threadbare, and I was told by more than