When he made fast to Coffee-House slip, an hour or two after, every man in the boat was drenched to the skin.  But there they were, and the fort was reinforced the next morning.

About this time, the young man had another important conversation with his mother, which, perhaps, was more embarrassing than the one recorded above.  He was in love.  Sophia Johnson was the maiden’s name,—­a neighbor’s lovely and industrious daughter, whose affections he had wooed and won.  He asked his mother’s consent to the match, and that henceforth he might have the disposal of his own earnings.  She approved his choice, and released him from his obligations.  During the rest of that season he labored with new energy, saved five hundred dollars, and, in December, 1813, when he laid up his boat for the winter, became the happy husband of the best of wives.

In the following spring, a great alarm pervaded all the sea-board cities of America.  Rumors were abroad of that great expedition which, at the close of the year, attacked New Orleans; but, in the spring and summer, no one knew upon which port the blow would fall.  The militia of New York were called out for three months, under a penalty of ninety-six dollars to whomsoever should fail to appear at the rendezvous.  The boatmen, in the midst of a flourishing business, and especially our young husband, were reluctant to lose the profits of a season’s labor, which were equivalent, in their peculiar case, to the income of a whole year.  An advertisement appeared one day in the papers which gave them a faint prospect of escaping this disaster.  It was issued from the office of the commissary-general, Matthew L. Davis, inviting bids from the boatmen for the contract of conveying provisions to the posts in the vicinity of New York during the three months, the contractor to be exempt from military duty.  The boatmen caught at this, as a drowning man catches at a straw, and put in bids at rates preposterously low,—­all except Cornelius Vanderbilt.

“Why don’t you send in a bid?” asked his father.

“Of what use would it be?” replied the son.  “They are offering to do the work at half-price.  It can’t be done at such rates.”

“Well,” added the father, “it can do no harm to try for it.”

So, to please his father, but without the slightest expectation of getting the contract, he sent in an application, offering to transport the provisions at a price which would enable him to do it with the requisite certainty and promptitude.  His offer was simply fair to both parties.

On the day named for the awarding of the contract, all the boatmen but him assembled in the commissary’s office.  He remained at the boat-stand, not considering that he had any interest in the matter.  One after another, his comrades returned with long faces, sufficiently indicative of their disappointment; until, at length, all of them had come in, but no one bringing the prize.  Puzzled at this, he strolled himself to the office, and asked the commissary if the contract had been given.