act is, most people understand these things about as well as we do,
and it but remains for us to give a daguerreotype of a _few customers_
which landlords or their clerks and servants now and then meet. The
conductor of one of our first-class houses, gives us such a truly
piquant and matter-of-fact picture of _his_ experience, that we _up_ and
copy it, believing, as we do, that the reader will see some information
and amusement in the subject.

A fussy fellow takes it into his head that he will go on a little tour,
he pockets a few dollars and a clean dickey or two, and--comes to town.
He's no green horn--O! no, he ain't, he has been around some--he has,
and knows a thing or two, and something over. He is dumped out of the
cars with hundreds of others, in the great depots, and is assailed by
vociferous _whips_ who, in quest of stray dimes, watch the incoming
_trains_ and shout and bawl--

"Eh 'up! Tremont House!"

"Up--_a!_ American House--right away!"

"Ha! _up!_ Right off for the Revere!"

"Here's the coach--already for the United States!"

"Yee 'up! now we go, git in, best house in town, all ready for the
Winthrop House!"

"Eh 'up, _ha!_ now we are off, for the Pavilion!"

"Exchange Coffee House--dollar a day, four meals, no extra charge--right
along this way, sir!"

"Hoo-_ray_, this coach--take you right up, Exchange Hotel!"

"Jump in, tickets for your baggage, sir, take you up--right off, best
house in town, hot supper waitin'--way for the Adams House!"

And so they yell and grab at you, and our fussy friend, having heard of
the tall arrangements and great doings of the _American_, he hands
himself over to the coachman, and with a load of others he is rolled
over to that institution, in a jiffy. Our fussy friend is slightly "took
down" at the idea of paying for the hauling up, having a notion that
that was a part of the accommodation! However, he ain't a going to look
small or verdant; so he pays the coachman, grabs his valise, and rushes
into the long colonnaded office; and making his way to the _register_,
slams down his baggage, and in a dignified, authoritative manner, says--

"A room!"

"Yes, sir," responds the Colonel, or some of the clerks--who may be
officiating.

"Supper!" says Capt. Fussy, in the same tone of command.

"Certainly, sir--please register your name, sir!"

Captain Fussy off's gloves, seizes the pen, and down goes his autograph,
Captain Fussy, Thumperstown, N. H.

"Now, I