Symzonia: Voyage of Discovery

Mr. Slippery was undoubtedly a great merchant. He lived in a spacious house in Broadway, rode in a splendid coach, walked like a man of consequence in Wall-street, was a bank director, and had the handsomest carpeted compting room in the city, and I know not how many clerks writing in the next room. I knew him by sight, and did not altogether like to apply to him, because of his haughty manners. I remembered that when, some years before, I called at his compting room to offer myself as a master for one of his ships, he kept me standing half an hour, with my hat in my hand, before he condescended to notice me, and was no ways pleased that I took the liberty to draw a chair to seat myself until he might be at leisure. But he was certainly a great merchant, and to him I went. I was delighted on entering his room, to observe a visible improvement in his deportment and manners. Instead of the distant, haughty reserve I had expected, he met me halfway, with both hands extended, and gave me a hearty welcome to my country after so long an absence; inquired after my wife and children in the most touching manner; was rejoiced to hear that I had made a great voyage, and should be extremely happy to render me any service in his power. He finished his preliminary address with, "I am a great admirer, Captain Seaborn, of you men of enterprise, who draw riches from the great deep to the benefit of the revenue, the extension of trade, and all that sort of thing: you understand me, Sir?"