Now, this was the very thing I had myself been doing,--actually eating "a steak without mustard!" What a mistake, and for one who believed himself to be in every respect conforming to the choicest usages of high life! What was to be done? The steak had disappeared; no matter, it was never too late to learn, and so I cried out, "Waiter, the mustard here!" in a voice that almost electrified the whole room. I had scarcely concealed myself beneath my curtain,--"The Times,"--when the mustard was set down before me, with a humble apology for forgetfulness. I waited till he withdrew, and then helping myself to the unknown delicacy, proceeded to eat it, as the phrase is, "neat." In my eagerness, I swallowed two or three mouthfuls before I felt its effects; and then a sensation of burning and choking seized upon me. My tongue seemed to swell to thrice its size; my eyes felt as if they would drop out of my head; while a tingling sensation, like "frying," in my nostrils, almost drove me mad; so that after three or four seconds of silent agony, during which I experienced about ten years of torture, unable to endure more, I screamed out that "I was poisoned," and, with wide-open mouth and staring eyes, ran down the coffee-room. Never was seen such an uproar! Had an animal from a wild-beast menagerie appeared among the company, the consternation could scarce be greater; and in the mingled laughter and execrations might be traced the different moods of those who resented my intrusion. "Who is this fellow? How did he get in? What brought him here? What's the matter with him?" poured in on all sides,--difficulties the head-waiter thought it better to deal with by a speedy expulsion than by any lengthened explanation. "Get a policeman, Bob!" said he to the next in command; and the order was given loud enough to be heard by me. "What the devil threw him amongst us?" said a testy-looking man in green spectacles. "I came to dine, sir," said I; "to have my steak and my pint of wine, as I hoped, in comfort, and as one might have it in a respectable tavern." A jolly burst of laughter stopped me, and I was obliged to wait for its subsidence to continue. "Well, sir! I paid for my dinner--" "Is that true, Sam?" said a shrewd-looking man to the waiter. "Quite true, sir! he paid four-and-sixpence, saying that the dinner was for a College gentleman." "I have been in College," said I, coolly; "but no matter, the thing is simple enough: I am here in a house of public entertainment, the proprietors of which have accepted my money for a specific purpose; and putting aside the question whether they can refuse admission to any well-conducted individual (see Barnes _versus_ MacTivell, in the 8th volume Term Reports; and Hobbes against Blinkerton, Soaker, and others, in the Appendix), I contend that my presence here is founded upon contract."