The superintendent of the Dock Yard in Amsterdam was seated in his office
one afternoon, indulging himself in smoking a rude pipe; a luxury then
recently imported from the colony of Virginia, in the New World.
His reflections, whatever they were, were broken in upon by a knock
at the door,—not a timid, hesitating knock; but a bold, authoritative
summons. The superintendent, judging it must proceed from some person
of consequence, hastily laid aside his pipe, and quickly threw open the
door, to admit his unknown visitor.
Instead of the high personage he anticipated, he beheld standing before
him a stout man, of commanding person, and dressed in the attire of a
workman.
He was a little vexed to think he had been so much deceived; and perhaps
it was natural that he should accost the intruder in a somewhat peevish
manner.
“Well, my good man, what do you want, that you come thumping at the door
as if you were really a man of mark? What would you have?”
“I seek employment,” said the stranger in a deep voice, not at all
intimidated at his reception.
At the same time, he presented a letter to the superintendent.
“Ha!” said the latter, glancing at it with considerable surprise; “from
the Russian ambassador!”