"Ah! here comes the supper. Now, landlord, I want you to join me, that we may have that little chat I spoke of," said the stranger, wheeling his arm-chair around to the table, while the waiter arranged the dishes, and stared at the flaming red head of the guest. "What name might I have the honor of entering on my books, sir, if you please?" inquired the host, as he obligingly took his seat opposite his guest. "What name might you have the honor of entering on your books?" repeated the stranger, helping himself to a huge slice of ham. "Well, you _might_ have the honor of entering quite a variety of names on your books, as I dare say you do; but for the sake of brevity, which is the soul of wit, you may put down Smith--John Smith of New York city. Common name, eh, landlord, and from a big city? Can't help that--fault of my forefathers and godfathers. Whenever I have to sign a check the bankers make me write myself down as 'John Smith of John.' Can't do any better than that if it were to avert a financial crisis. All my ancestors have been John Smiths, from the days of William Rufus, when his chief armorer John, surnamed the 'Smiter,' for his lusty blows, founded the family. So you may set me down as 'John Smith of John, New York city.' And now send the waiter away, and fall to and tell me some of your neighborhood news." Nothing but the consciousness of the possession of those two big bills would have given the landlord courage to have left his business below stairs to take care of itself even for the half hour to which he mentally resolved to limit his interview with the stranger. However, he dismissed the waiter with some extra charges, and then placed himself at the service of his guest, and even took the initiative of the _tete-a-tete_ by asking: "You are quite a stranger in this neighborhood, sir?" "Quite." "Travelling on business, or for pleasure?" "Pleasure." "A delightful season this, to travel in, sir; neither too warm, nor too cold. And the country never looks so rich and beautiful as in its autumn foliage." "True," answered the stranger, briefly, and then he added, "I didn't ask you to come here to catechize me, my good friend; but to submit to be catechized yourself, and to amuse me with the gossip of the neighborhood." Again nothing but the consciousness of a heavy fee would have induced the host of the "Antlers" to put up with this traveller's "nonsense," as he termed his general assumption of superiority. "What would you like to hear about, then, sir?" growled the landlord. "First, what important families have you in this part of the country?" "Well, sir, the most principlest is the Bernerses of Black Hall, which have returned from their bridal tour about a month ago and taken up their abode there in the old ancestral home." "The Berners! Who are they?" inquired the traveller, carelessly trifling with the wing of a pheasant.