Clinton by Walter Aimwell — Read

The sun, streaming in from the window, awoke Jerry from his slumbers, after his first night in Boston. On getting up he found that his room was higher than the surrounding buildings, affording an extensive prospect. One of the first objects that met his eye he concluded must be Bunker Hill Monument, as it resembled the engravings he had seen of that structure. There were a great many church-steeples in sight, and the houses seemed to be crowded together almost as close as they could be packed. He could also see a strip of water, with numerous vessels, one or two of which were very large, noble-looking ships. These last were men-of-war, belonging to the American Government, and were anchored off the Navy-Yard at Charlestown.

But Jerry did not stop to gaze long at the novel scene spread before him. Other matters claimed his attention. As he dressed himself he began to consider what he should do next. He was acquainted with but one family in the place,-that of his uncle,-and he did not dare to go to them, lest they should send him back to his home. If Oscar had only been at home, he would have lost no time in seeing him; but he knew, from letters received by his parents, that his wayward cousin had gone to sea, several months before. A stranger, in a great city, with no one to advise or assist, and cast entirely upon his own resources, it must be confessed that Jerry felt rather dull, that morning. And yet he did not wish to return to his home, and his greatest fear was that his friends would discover where he was. He thought it would not be safe to stay long in Boston, and so he determined to try at once to get a chance to go to sea-a design on which he had set his heart, before he started from home.