and dejected, he prepared his mind for a torrent of bitter reproaches; for this gentleman was one whose patience he felt he had abused.  What was his relief when his creditor accosted him gayly with, “Well, Mr. Goodyear, what can I do for you to-day?” His first thought was, that an insult was intended, so preposterous did it seem that this man could really desire to aid him further.  Satisfied that the offer was well meant, he told his friend that he had come out that morning in search of food for his family, and that a loan of fifteen dollars would greatly oblige him.  The money was instantly produced, which enabled him to postpone his visit to the pawnbroker for several days.  The pawnbroker was still, however, his frequent resource all that year, until the few remains of his late brief prosperity had all disappeared.

But he never for a moment let go his hold upon India-rubber.  A timely loan of a hundred dollars from an old friend enabled him to remove his family to Staten Island, near the abandoned India-rubber factory.  Having free access to the works, he and his wife contrived to manufacture a few articles of his improved cloth, and to sell enough to provide daily bread.  His great object there was to induce the directors of the suspended Company to recommence operations upon his new process.  But so completely sickened were they of the very name of a material which had involved them in so much loss and discredit, that during the six months of his residence on the Island he never succeeded in persuading one man to do so much as come to the factory and look at his specimens.  There were thousands of dollars’ worth of machinery there, but not a single shareholder cared even to know the condition of the property.  This was the more remarkable, since he was unusually endowed by nature with the power to inspire other men with his own confidence.  The magnates of Staten Island, however, involved as they were in the general shipwreck of property and credit, were inexorably deaf to his eloquence.

As he had formerly exhausted Philadelphia, so now New York seemed exhausted.  He became even an object of ridicule.  He was regarded as an India-rubber monomaniac.  One of his New York friends having been asked how Mr. Goodyear could be recognized in the street, replied:  “If you see a man with an India-rubber coat on, India-rubber shoes, an India-rubber cap, and in his pocket an India-rubber purse, with not a cent in it, that is he.”  He was in the habit then of wearing his material in every form, with the twofold view of testing and advertising it.

In September, 1836, aided again by a small loan, he packed a few of his best specimens in his carpet-bag, and set out alone for the cradle of the India-rubber manufacture,—­Roxbury.  The ruin of the great Company there was then complete, and the factory was abandoned.  All that part of Massachusetts was suffering from the total depreciation of the India-rubber stocks.  There were still, however, two or three