ورقة المليون جنيه

When I was twenty-seven years old, I worked as a clerk for a mining company in San Francisco. I knew everything about buying and selling shares. I had no family and no money, only my brains and a good name. But I was sure that one day these would bring me a fortune, and I was happy to wait.

On Saturday afternoons I liked to sail a small boat on the bay. One day I went too far, and the wind carried me out to sea. Night was coming, and I had almost given up hope. Then a small ship picked me up. It was going to London. The journey was long and stormy, and the captain made me work as a sailor without pay. When I stepped onto the street in London, my clothes were old and torn. I had exactly one dollar in my pocket.

That dollar gave me food and a bed for one day. For the next day I had no food and no bed at all.