mson might not be right.

"Where you goin' to put up?" asked Mr. Robinson after an interval,
having failed to draw out any response to his last effort.

"Is there more than one hotel?" inquired the passenger.

"The's the Eagle, an' the Lake House, an' Smith's Hotel," replied Jehu.

"Which would you recommend?" asked John.

"Wa'al," said Robinson, "I don't gen'ally praise up one more'n another.
You see, I have more or less dealin' with all on 'em."

"That's very diplomatic of you, I'm sure," remarked John, not at all
diplomatically. "I think I will try the Eagle."

Mr. Robinson, in his account of the conversation, said in
confidence--not wishing to be openly invidious--that "he was dum'd if he
wa'n't almost sorry he hadn't recommended the Lake House."

It may be inferred from the foregoing that the first impression which
our friend made on his arrival was not wholly in his favor, and Mr.
Robinson's conviction that he was "stuck up," and a person bound to get
himself "gen'ally disliked," was elevated to an article of faith by his
retiring to the rear of the vehicle, and quite out of ordinary range.
But they were nearly at their journey's end, and presently the carryall
drew up at the Eagle Hotel.

It was a frame building of three stories, with a covered veranda running
the length of the front, from which two doors gave entrance--one to the
main hall, the other to the office and bar combined. This was rather a
large room, and was also to be entered from the main hall.

John's luggage was deposited, Mr. Robinson was settled with, and took
his departure without the amenities which might have prevailed under
different conditions, and the new arrival made his way into the office.

Behind the bar counter, which faced the street, at one end of which was
a small high desk and at the other a glazed case containing three or
four partly full boxes of forlorn-looking cigars, but with most
ambitious labels, stood the proprietor, manager, clerk, and what not of
the hostelry, embodied in the single person of Mr. Amos Elright, who was
leaning over the counter in conversation with three or four loungers who
sat about the room with their chairs tipped back against the wall.

A sketch of Mr. Elright would have depicted a dull "complected" person
of a tousled baldness, whose dispirited expression of countenance was
enhanced by a chin whisker. His shirt and collar gave unmistakable
evidence that pajamas or other night-gear were re