. Life and reminiscences from birth to manhood of Wm. G. Johnston . m seenwithout having on a white apron, and he seemed particu-larly to revel in a snowy-white shirt, with unusuallylarge sleeves and a ruffled bosom. Natty was as muchat home in the bookstore as in his own shop ; and as wehave said, was on familiar terms with most of the visitors,whom he often entertained by the recital of stories, ofwhich he had an unfailing supply, and by his sallies ofnative wit which always stood him in good stead. Didany one chance to speak of what some ancestor may havepossessed. Natty would quietly remar
. Life and reminiscences from birth to manhood of Wm. G. Johnston . m seenwithout having on a white apron, and he seemed particu-larly to revel in a snowy-white shirt, with unusuallylarge sleeves and a ruffled bosom. Natty was as muchat home in the bookstore as in his own shop ; and as wehave said, was on familiar terms with most of the visitors,whom he often entertained by the recital of stories, ofwhich he had an unfailing supply, and by his sallies ofnative wit which always stood him in good stead. Didany one chance to speak of what some ancestor may havepossessed. Natty would quietly remark, My fahther inlorlind had two phanexis. At times, when there wouldbe a lag in the conversation, or other occasion of dry-ness, as frequently happened on the part of some whomI might name who were on terms to mingle with those I 208 Adjouruing to Nattys. have mentioned, there would be an adjournment toNattys, where it was presumed relief might be found. While watching these as they quietly slip out tosmile^ what better chance could we have to conclude achapter ?. CHAPTER XL ENROLLED A FIREMAN—MEMBER OF A LITERARY SO-CIETY—ENLIST FOR THE MEXICAN WAR. A soldier, . .Seeking the bubble reputation,Even in the cannons mouth. Shakespeare. I BEGAN to feel a deep interest in the fire departmentvery early in my boyhood ; and it was a subject tbatoccupied much of my thoughts, while I looked forwardwith no little impatience to the time when I would beenrolled as a fireman. It was my great ambition to weara hat and coat of oilcloth, flaming red as to color (for theAllegheny was at that time my favorite), and to carrya brass horn, perhaps, or a spanner for coupling hose, oran axe, it might be, to batter down doors. Even whensomewhat older, the illusion did not vanish when on trialit was ascertained that in wearing a firemans hat aboutas much comfort was to be extracted as if it were aniron pot. My fathers place of business, at the corner ofThird Street and Chancery Lane, which to me was
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