He exuded it from every
pore. Of course he was acclaimed by the county and the State (the
Sunday editions published his portrait) as the star-spangled epitome
of Yankee grit and get-there.
At this point we must present, with apologies, the agent of the
Autocrat, _the_ agent, the High-muck-a-muck of the Pacific Slope,
with a salary of a hundred thousand a year and _perks_! In his
youth Nat Levi smelt of fried fish, unless the smell was overpowered
by onions, and he changed his lodgings more often than he changed his
linen. Now you meet him as Nathaniel Leveson, Esquire, who travelled
in his private car, who assumed the God, when the God was elsewhere,
who owned a palace on Nob Hill, and some of the worst, and therefore
the most paying, rookeries in Chinatown, who never refused to give a
cheque for charitable purposes when it was demanded in a becomingly
public manner, who, like the Autocrat, had endowed Christian Churches,
and had successfully eliminated out of his life everything which
smacked of the Ghetto, except his nose.
Nathaniel Leveson visited our county, opened an office, and began to
lay his pulpy white hands upon everything which directly or indirectly
might produce petroleum.
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