"Well now," said he, giving a jump, and coming down right upon the bed
in his great coat, "I'll just tell you; I said to the chap at the bar,
`Ain't the Captain in your house?' `Yes,' says he. `Then where is he?'
says I. `Oh,' says he, `he's gone into his own room, and locked himself
up; he's a d---d aristocrat, and won't drink at the bar with other
gentlemen.' So, thought I, I've read M---'s works, and I'll be swamped
if he is an aristocrat, and by the 'tarnal I'll go up and see; so here I
am, and you're no aristocrat."
"I should think not," replied I, moving my feet away, which he was half
sitting on.
"Oh, don't move; never mind me, Captain, I'm quite comfortable. And how
do you find yourself by this time?"
"Very tired indeed," replied I.
"I suspicion as much. Now, d'ye see, I left four or five good fellows
down below who wish to see you; I said I'd go up first, and come down to
them. The fact is, Captain, we don't like you should pass through our
town without showing you a little American hospitality."
So saying, he slid off the bed, and went out of the room. In a minute
he returned, bringing with him four or five others, all of whom he
introduced by name, and reseated himself on my bed, while the others
took chairs.
"Now, gentlemen," said he, "as I was telling the Captain, we wish to
show him a little American hospitality; what shall it be, gentlemen;
what d'ye say--a bottle of Madeira?"
An immediate answer not being returned, he continued:
"Yes, gentlemen, a bottle of Madeira; at my expense, gentlemen,
recollect that; now ring the bell."
"I shall be most happy to take a glass of wine with you," observed I,
"but in my own room the wine must be at _my_ expense."
"At _your_ expense, Captain; well, if it must be, I don't care; at
_your_ expense then, Captain, if you say so; only, you see, we must show
you a little American hospitality, as I said to them all down below;
didn't I, gentlemen?"
The wine was ordered, and it ended in my hospitable friends drinking
three bottles, and then they all shook hands with me, declaring how
happy they should be if I came to the town again, allowed them to show
me a little more American hospitality.
There was something so very ridiculous in this event, that I cannot help
narrating it; but let it not be supposed, for a moment, that I intend it
as a sarcasm upon American hospitality in general. There certainly are
conditions usually attached to their hospitality, if you wish to profit
by it to any extent; and one is, that you do not venture to find fault
with themselves, their manners, or their institutions.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
_Note_--That a guest, partaking of their hospitality, should give his
opinions unasked, and find fault, would be in very bad taste, to say the
least of it. But the fault in America is, that you are compelled to
give an opinion, and you cannot escape by a doubtful reply: as the
American said to me in Philadelphia, "I wish a _categorical_ answer."
Thus, should you not agree with them, you are placed upon the horns of a
dilemma: either you must affront the company, or sacrifice truth.