 Golden Hill by Francis Spufford, narrated by Sarah Borges. He advised me to correct the rebellious principles I'd imbibed among the English, for their insolence to their kings were notorious all over the world. TO BUY A SMALL IT THE ADVENTURES OF RODRIK RANDOM 1748 CHAPTER I. ALL HALLOWS, NOV. 1. 20 G. 2. 1746 The brig Henrietta, having made Sandy-hook a little before the dinner-hour, and having passed the narrows about three o'clock, and then crawling to and fro in a series of tacks infinitesimal enough to rival the calculus across the grey sheet of the harbor of New York. Until it seemed to Mr. Smith, dancing from foot to foot upon deck, that the small mound of the city waiting there would hover ahead in the November gloom in perpetuity, never growing closer to the smirk of Greek Xeno, and the day being advanced to dusk by the time Henrietta at last lay anchored off tight at slip, with the veritable gables of the city's veritable houses divided from him only by one hundred foot of water, and the dusk moreover being as cold and damp and dim as November can afford, as if all the world were a cordo of grey paper dampened by drizzle until in danger of crumbling imminently to pap. All this being true, the master of the brig pressed upon him the virtue of sleeping this one further night aboard, and pursuing his shore business in the morning, he meaning by the offer to signal his esteem, having found Mr. Smith a pleasant companion during the slow weeks of the crossing. But Mr. Smith would not have it. Smith, bowing and smiling, desired nothing but to be rode to the dock. Smith indeed, when once he had his shoes flat on the cobbles, took off at such speed, despite the gambling of his land legs, that he far outpaced the sailor dispatched to carry his trunk, and must double back for it, and seizing it, wasted in stanter on his own shoulder, and gallop on, skidding over fish-guts and turnip-leaves and cat's end-trails, and the other effluvium of the port, asking for directions here, asking again there, so that he appeared most nearly as a type of smiling whirlwind when he shouldered open the door, just as it was about to be bolted for the evening, of the counting-house of the firm of Lovell and Company on Golden Hill Street, and laid down his burden while the Prentices were lighting the lamps, and the clock on the wall showed one minute to five, and demanded, very civilly, speech that moment with Mr. Lovell himself. I'm Lovell? said the merchant, rising from his place by the fire, as qualities in brief to meet the needs of a first encounter. Sample complete. Ready to continue?