All this work was my work, and of the boys employed upon it I was one.
There were three or four of us, counting me.

My working place was established in a corner of the warehouse, where Mr.Quinion could see me, when he chose to stand up on the bottom rail of his stool in the counting-house, and look at me through a window above the desk.

Hither, on the first morning of my so auspiciously beginning life on my own account, the oldest of the regular boys was summoned to show me my business.

His name was Mick Walker, and he wore a ragged apron and a paper cap.

He informed me that his father was a bargeman, and walked, in a black velvet head-dress, in the Lord Mayor's Show.