His quaint appearance led many to think he was an escaped apprentice.

One Sunday at his boarding-place he heard that printers were wanted at "West's Printing-office." He was at the door at five o'clock Monday morning, and asked the foreman for a job at seven.
The latter had no idea that the country greenhorn could set type for the Polyglot Testament on which help was needed, but said: "Fix up a case for him and we'll see if he _can_ do anything." When the proprietor came in, he objected to the newcomer and told the foreman to let him go when his first day's work was done.

That night Horace showed a proof of the largest and most correct day's work that had then been done.

In ten years Horace was a partner in a small printing-office.

He founded the _New Yorker_, the best weekly paper in the United States, but it was not profitable.