ON the second day of June, 186—, a young Norseman, Halfdan Bjerk by name, landed on the pier at Castle Garden. He passed through the straight and narrow gate where he was asked his name, birthplace, and how much money he had,—at which he grew very much frightened.
“And your destination?”—demanded the gruff-looking functionary at the desk.
“America,” said the youth, and touched his hat politely.
“Do you think I have time for joking