dian blanket; a leather bag, a gunpowder flask,
two squares of yellow soap, a bullet mold, and a nightcap; a tomahawk, a
paper of nails, a scrubbing-brush, a hammer, and an old gridiron. Having
emptied the sack, Mat took up the buffalo hide, and spread it out on
his bed, with a very expressive sneer at the patchwork counterpane and
meager curtains. He next threw down the bear skins, with the empty sack
under them, in an unoccupied corner; propped up the leather bag between
two angles of the wall; took his pipe from the floor; left everything
else lying in the middle of the room; and, sitting down on the bearskins
with his back against the bag, told the astonished landlord that he was
quite settled and comfortable, and would thank him to go down stairs,
and send up a pound of the strongest tobacco he had in the shop.

Mat's subsequent proceedings during the rest of the day--especially such
as were connected with his method of laying in a stock of provisions,
and cooking his own dinner--exhibited the same extraordinary disregard
of all civilized precedent which had marked his first entry into the
lodgings. After he had dined, he took a nap on his bear skins; woke up
grumbling at the close air and the confined room; smoked a long series
of pipes, looking out of window all the time with quietly observant,
constantly attentive eyes; and, finally, rising to the climax of all
his previous oddities, came down when the tobacco shop was being shut up
after the closing of the neighboring theater, and coolly asked which was
his nearest way into the country, as he wanted to clear his head, and
stretch his legs, by making a walking night of it in the fresh air.

He began the next morning by cleaning both his rooms thoroughly with his
own hands; and seemed to enjoy the occupation mightily in his own grim,
grave way. His dining, napping, smoking, and observant study of the
street view from his window, followed as on the previous day. But at
night, instead of setting forth into the country as before, he wandered
into the streets; and, in the course of his walk, happened to pass the
door of the Snuggery. What happened to him there is already known; but
what became of him afterwards remains to be seen.

On leaving Zack, he walked straight on; not slackening his pace, not
noticing whither he went, not turning to go back till daybreak. It
was past nine o'clock before he presented himself at the tobacco-shop,
bringing in with him a goodly s