way, very many of our most successful printers have learned

the business.

Mr. Bliss, Horace Greeley's first employer in the printing business, states, in a letter which has been largely published, that he "doubts if, in the whole term of his apprenticeship, he ever spent an hour in the common recreations of young men." This is probably true as to out-door recreations; but it may well be doubted whether there has ever yet been a printer who did not have some in-door recreations. Their labour is both bodily and mental, and, therefore, tiresome, exhaustive. It consumes the "phosphorous" of the human system about as much as any other employment. Some kind of recreation is a necessity. As a matter of fact, printers are generally fond of in-door games and skilful therein. Horace Greeley, a printer's apprentice, played many a game of checkers, or drafts, with three-em and two-em "quods" for the men, and if he did not play "poker" with quods for "chips" his printer's experience may be accounted as absolutely unique. He was, in truth, an uncommonly skilful checker player, was good at chess, and better than usual at whist and other innocent games of cards. But he never gambled for a penny in his life. He indulged in these games for recreation only, and never for this purpose on Sunday. It were well if all printers, and all men for that matter,-were, if not as skilful as guiltless of all harm in these games as was Horace Greeley.

On many accounts Poultney was an excellent place in which to serve an apprenticeship. The community was essentially rural, the citizens intelligent and moral; so that there were few temptations to dissipation and vice. There was a publie

4

There is a story that he originated the popular inquiry, “How is that for high?" It is said that, once playing a four-handed game of Old Sledge, or Seven Up, one of the players threw down the tray of trumps, asking "how is that for low?" When it came his turn, he threw down the deuce, exclaiming, “How is that for High?" Though the deuce could not possibly be beaten for "low," the cream of the joke was that Mr. Greeley saved his "Jack" and caught a ten-spot on the very next trick. No "heathen Chinee" ever did better. This is said to be the origin of the comic song "How Is that for High," than which none has been more popular on the boards, especially when rendered by our Chicago Emerson.

library in the village, the first with which Horace Greeley became acquainted. "I have never since," he says, "found at once books and opportunity to enjoy them, so ample as while there; I do not think I ever before or since read to so much profit." In addition to the books, he also had the advantages of a Debating Society, or Lyceum, whose members consisted of many of the most intelligent men of the village, whose meetings were held once a week, when questions, proposed at previous meetings, were debated very much, as questions are debated in the literary societies of our learned institutions. The exercises were public; the admission was free; and so popular did the meetings become that they were attended by the people of Poultney generally,-babies inclusive,—and by many from the surrounding country. Farmers from a distance of ten miles often attended. Horace Greeley joined this society, and, though a mere youth, at once took rank as a skilful and powerful debater. He did not then have, and never acquired, "the graces of oratory," so called, but he was then, as he ever was, an interesting, intelligent speaker, whose ideas were clear and clearly, forcibly, originally expressed. His voice was thin, almost like a whine; his gestures were not graceful; but his arguments were to the point and his information was always ample and almost invariably correct. He had probably read more books and newspapers than any ten members of the Lyceum, and had stored their contents in one of the most capacious and retentive memories ever possessed by man. And hence it happened that the youngest member of the Poultney Lyceum became its intellectual leader and its acknowledged authority on disputed points; and this though he never wore a coat, a neck-tie, nor a pair of gloves.

Mr. Bliss, before mentioned, gives the following account of the young apprentice at Poultney:

"About this time, a sound, well-read theologian and a practical printer was employed to edit and conduct the paper. This opened a desirable school for intellectual culture to our young débutant. Debates ensued: historical, political, and religious questions were discussed; and often while all hands were engaged at the font of types; and here the purpose for which our young aspirant 'had read some' was made manifest. Such

was the correctness of his memory in what he had read, in both biblical and profane history, that the reverend gentleman was often put at fault by his corrections. He always quoted chapter and verse to prove the point in dispute. On one occasion the editor said that money was the root of all evil, when he was corrected by the devil,' who said he believed it read in the Bible that the love of money was the root of all evil.

"A small town library gave him access to books, by which, together with the reading of the exchange papers of the office, he improved all his leisure hours. He became a frequent talker in our village lyceum, and often wrote dissertations.

"In the first organization of our village temperance society, the ques tion arose as to the age when the young might become members. Fearing lest his own age might bar him, he moved that they be received when they were old enough to drink-which was adopted nem. con.

"Though modest and retiring, he was often led into political discussions with our ablest politicians, and few would leave the field without feeling instructed by the soundness of his views and the unerring correctness of his statements of political events.

"Having a thirst for knowledge, he bent his mind and all his energies to its acquisition, with unceasing application and untiring devotion; and I doubt if, in the whole term of his apprenticeship, he ever spent an hour in the common recreation of young men. He used to pass my door as he went to his daily meals, and though I often sat near, or stood in the way, so much absorbed did he appear in his own thoughts-his head bent forward and his eyes fixed upon the ground, that I have the charity to believe that the reason why he never turned his head or gave me a look, was because he had no idea I was there!"

The notable respect and influence gained by Horace Greeley, even during the years of his apprenticeship, notwithstanding his singular dress and uncouth manners, are happily illustrated by an anecdote told by a distinguished physician of New. York. The physician's story is thus reported by Parton:

“Did I ever tell you," he is wont to begin, "how and where I first saw my friend Horace Greeley? Well, thus it happened. It was one of the proudest and happiest days of my life. I was a country boy then, a farmer's son, and we lived a few miles from East Poultney. On the day in question I was sent by my father to sell a load of potatoes at the store in East Poultney, and bring back various commodities in exchange. Now this was the first time, you must know, that I had ever been entrusted with so important an errand. I had been to the village with my father often enough, but now I was to go alone, and I felt as proud and independent as a midshipman the first time he goes ashore in command of a boat. Big with the fate of twenty bushels of potatoes, off I drove reached the village-sold out my load-drove round to the tavern-put up

YOUNG GREELEY'S TOILET.

47

my horses, and went in to dinner. This going to the tavern on my own account, all by myself, and paying my own bill, was, I thought, the crowning glory of the whole adventure. There were a good many people at dinner, the sheriff of the county and an ex-member of Congress among them, and I felt considerably abashed at first; but I had scarcely begun to eat, when my eyes fell upon an object so singular that I could do little else than stare at it all the while it remained in the room. It was a tall, pale, white-haired, gawky boy, seated at the further end of the table. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and he was eating with a rapidity and awkwardness that I never saw equalled before nor since. It seemed as if he was eating for a wager, and had gone in to win. He neither looked up nor round, nor appeared to pay the least attention to the conversation. My first thought was, 'This is a pretty sort of a tavern to let such a fellow as that sit at the same table with all these gentlemen; he ought to come in with the hostler.' I thought it strange, too, that no one seemed to notice him, and I supposed he owed his continuance at the table to that circumstance alone. And so I sat, eating little myself, and occupied in watching the wonderful performance of this wonderful youth. At length the conversation at the table became quite animated, turning upon some measure of an early Congress; and a question arose how certain members had voted on its final passage. There was a difference of opinion; and the sheriff, a very finely-dressed personage, I thought, to my boundless astonishment, referred the matter to the unaccountable Boy, saying, ‘Aint that right, Greeley?' 'No,' said the Unaccountable, without looking up, 'you 're wrong.' 'There,' said the ex-member, I told you so.' 'And you 're wrong, too,' said the still-devouring Mystery. Then he laid down his knife and fork, and gave the history of the measure, explained the state of parties at the time, stated the vote in dispute, named the leading advocates and opponents of the bill, and, in short, gave a complete exposition of the whole matter. I listened and wondered; but what surprised me most was, that the company received his statement as pure gospel, and as settling the question beyond dispute as a dictionary settles a dispute respecting the spelling of a word. A minute after, the boy left the dining-room, and I never saw him again, till I met him, years after, in the streets of New-York, when I claimed acquaintance with him as a brother Vermonter, and told him this story, to his great amusement."

The future great journalist was so ill clad during his apprenticeship that there are those still living at Poultney who recollect their feelings of sadness in his behalf, on seeing him walking to the office in the bitter cold mornings of a Vermont Winter. He always walked rapidly,-moving as though he were a little too loose in the joints, as they say,-and with his gloveless hands in his pockets to protect them from the frost. His homely dress was a constant source of laughter among the

boys, and it is related that on one occasion when there was to be an unusually interesting debate at the Lyceum, a young man who was noted for the elegance of his toilet and the length of his store account, advised Horace to get a new suit of clothes for the great debate. "No," said he, "I guess I'd better wear my old clothes than run in debt for new ones." And in his homely garb he won the decision in the discussion. Half the sum annually received by Horace Greeley would have provided him with comfortable, presentable clothing. But he had not during his apprenticeship, and never acquired, the slightest regard for his personal appearance. Moreover, he was extremely economical at this period of his life, with the object of aiding his father in his pioneer home. Thither he sent every dollar that he could spare, caring nothing for the laughter of the young and the derision of the thoughtless. By reason of his own hard labour and these timely remittances of his son, Zaccheus Greeley was able to pay all his indebtedness on his farm, and gradually to improve and enlarge it, so that at the time of his death it had become an extensive and valuable estate. During Horace's term of apprenticeship he was allowed a month on two separate occasions to visit the family homestead. This journey of some six hundred miles he accomplished by walking part of the way, and on "line boats" on the Erie canal, whose "cent and a half a mile, mile and a half an hour" many yet remember. "The days passed slowly yet smoothly," he says, "on those gliding arks, being enlivened by various sedentary games; but the nights were tedious beyond any sleeping-car experience. At daybreak, you were routed out of your shabby, shelf-like berth, and driven on deck to swallow fog while the cabin was cleared of its beds and made ready for breakfast." Mr. Greeley decidedly objected to the return of "the good old ways," if they should include line boats and the little tubs which used to do duty as steamboats on Lake Erie, in which he had some disagreeable experiences on these journeys home and return.

Horace Greeley's first essays in writing were with neither pen nor pencil. They were set up in types, being directly transferred thereto from his mind while he worked at the case.