Oh human natur', how the varmint wilted down when I said this; he took off his hat, and sez he--as mean as a frozen potater--says he, "I didn't know as it was you." "I rather guess you didn't," says I. The feller seemed to feel so sheepish that it sort of mollified me, and so I up and gave him another four-pence-ha'penny. With that I went up the steps, up and up till I cum to a great long stun hall that reached tu all creation, with a kind of a bar-room at one end. It was a sort of a stun side-walk a shut up in a house; for lots of men were talking and walking about as easy as if they'd been in the street. I went up to the bar-room, where a chap sot with sour looks, as if he felt to hum all over, and says I-- "Do you take in boarders here?" The chap looked at me from the top of my head to the sole of my foot, as if he'd never seen a full sized Yankee in his life; and after fidgeting about, says he-- "Yes, we du sometimes, but mebby you've mistook the place." "I reckon not," says I. "How much du you charge a week? I paid two dollars and fifty cents down in Cherry-street, but I s'pose you go as high as four dollars, or say four fifty." The feller looked sort of flustered; so thinks says I, I haint got up the notch yet, so I'll give one more hist. "Wal, sir, it goes agin the grain; but seeing as it's the Astor House, per'aps I might give as high as five dollars, if you'd throw in the washing. I aint hard on clothes, say a shirt and three dickeys, with a pair of yarn socks a week, and a silk hankercher once a fortnight. I shall have to be a trifle extravagant in that line." The feller grew red in the face, and looked as if he was tickled tu death at gitting such an offer. Think sez I, I hope to gracious I haint made a coot of myself, and bid up too high. I got so consarned before the chap spoke, that I sort of wanted to git off edgeways. There was a great day-book a lying by him, and sez I-- "I see you trust out board by your books; but I'm ready to hand over every Saturday night; so per'haps you'll take less for cash." The feller sort of choked in a larf, and sez he-- "That aint a day-book, only one we keep for folks that come here to write down their names in." Think sez I, I guess I'll write my name, and then he'll see that he's got hold of a cute hand for a bargain, and may dock off a trifle on that are five dollars. "O," sez I, "that's it; well, give us hold here, and I'll write my name right off for you." The feller handed over the pen. I stretched out my right arm, turned the cuff of my coat over, flourished off a long-tailed J, till the ink spattered all over the book; then I streaked along to the S, curled it up harnsomely, and finished off with a K that would have made Mr. Goldsmith, the writing-master, in Broadway, feel awk'ard if he'd seen it. I wish you could have seen that Astor House chap, when he read the name; he looked as if he didn't know what to du, but at last he stepped back, and he made a bow, and sez he,--