"I am looking for bills," was his reply.

I thought we could have looked for bills as well without him, and
I told him so; upon which he assumed an air of great activity,
and began knocking regularly at every door we passed, enquiring
if the house was to be let. It was impossible to endure this
long, and our guide was dismissed, though I was afterwards
obliged to pay him a dollar for his services.

We had the good fortune, however, to find a dwelling before
long, and we returned to our hotel, having determined upon
taking possession of it as soon at it could be got ready.
Not wishing to take our evening meal either with the three
score and ten gentlemen of the dining-room, nor yet with the
half dozen ladies of the bar-room, I ordered tea in my own
chamber. A good-humoured Irish woman came forward with a sort
of patronising manner, took my hand, and said, "Och, my honey,
ye'll be from the old country. I'll see you will have your tay
all to yourselves, honey." With this assurance we retired to
my room, which was a handsome one as to its size and bed
furniture, but it had no carpet, and was darkened by blinds of
paper, such as rooms are hung with, which required to be rolled
up, and then fastened with strings very awkwardly attached to
the window-frames, whenever light or air were wished for.
I afterwards met with these same uncomfortable blinds in every
part of America.

Our Irish friend soon reappeared, and brought us tea, together
with the never failing accompaniments of American tea drinking,
hung beef, "chipped up" raw, and sundry sweetmeats of brown
sugar hue and flavour. We took our tea, and were enjoying our
family talk, relative to our future arrangements, when a loud
sharp knocking was heard at our door. My "come in," was answered
by the appearance of a portly personage, who proclaimed himself
our landlord.

"Are any of you ill?" he began.

"No thank you, sir; we are all quite well," was my reply.

"Then, madam, I must tell you, that I cannot accommodate you on
these terms; we have no family tea-drinkings here, and you must
live either with me or my wife, or not at all in my house."

This was said with an air of authority that almost precluded
reply, but I ventured a sort of apologistic hint, that we were
strangers and unaccustomed to the manners of the country.

"Our manners are very good manners, and we don't wish any changes
from England."

I thought of mine host of the Washington afterward