The wind was proudly swelling the white sails, and the little craft
plunging into the foaming waves, with the land fast receding in
the distance, when Jerome mounted a pile of lumber to take a last
farewell of his native land. With tears glistening in his eyes,
and with quivering lips, he turned his gaze toward the shores that
were fast fading in the dim distance, and said,--
"Though forced from my native land by the tyrants of the South, I
hope I shall some day be able to return. With all her faults, I
love my country still."
CHAPTER XXIX
A STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND.
THE rain was falling on the dirty pavements of Liverpool as Jerome
left the vessel after her arrival. Passing the custom-house, he
took a cab, and proceeded to Brown's Hotel, Clayton Square.
Finding no employment in Liverpool, Jerome determined to go into
the interior and seek for work. He, therefore, called for his
bill, and made ready for his departure. Although but four days at
the Albion, he found the hotel charges larger than he expected;
but a stranger generally counts on being "fleeced" in travelling
through the Old World, and especially in Great Britain. After
paying his bill, he was about leaving the room, when one of the
servants presented himself with a low bow, and said,--
"Something for the waiter, sir?"
"I thought I had paid my bill," replied the man, somewhat surprised
at this polite dun.
"I am the waiter, sir, and gets only what strangers see fit to give
me.
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