While at this hotel, a little incident happened to me, which some might term “funny”—but I did not think it so at the time, because it was rather calculated to wound my pride and dignity—and which further illustrates the mortification to which an unhappy one-legged fellow is sometimes subjected, through the pardonable ignorance or want of judgment of others. I was sitting on the piazza of the hotel one delightful evening in September enjoying the mild balmy air and admiring the glowing sunset, when two charming young ladies, in a buggy, drove up to the pump in front of the hotel obviously with the intention of quenching their delicate thirst by quaffing the pure, sparkling water. One was about to jump out for the purpose of getting the water for herself and her companion. No one else was near. Could I sit there and see the beautiful creature climb out for a draught of the water, when it was in my power to help them both to it where they sat, and thus save them the trouble? Not while my name was John Smith—and thus far the Legislature of my State had not been petitioned to change it. “Do not get out, miss,” I said, rising, taking up my crutch, and walking to the pump. “Do not get out: I will hand you a drink.—Fine evening.” “Yes, very.—But, I am afraid it’s too much tr—” “O, not at all,” said I, taking the pump-handle in one hand, and with the other holding the tin cup that was at the pump under the spout. “Pray remain where you are.” “You are so kind——” “O, not at all,” I interrupted, as the sparkling water gushed from the spout and overflowed the cup. I handed the cup to the nearest fair one, and she handed it to her companion. “_You_ drink,” said her companion. “O, no; _you_,” said the fair one nearest me. “No _you_ drink first,” said the other. “I won’t: you _must_ drink first.” So, the one farthest from me took the cup and drank. I describe this little episode in the incident, because I suppose it to be a scene entirely new, and one that no person ever saw any thing like before (?). When the lovely one on the other side had drank, the lovely one on my side took the cup, which was yet half full, drank it off and handed me the vessel, with a sweet, “Thank you.” “Will you have some more?” “No, thank you.” “Perhaps, the other lady——” It will be seen that I was getting extremely gallant. “No, thank you; no more,” interrupted the other lady. They had been driving in the country—driving at a lively pace, probably—and I noticed that the horse was perspiring and looked tired and thirsty; so, my humanity being fully equal to my gallantry, I said: “Here is a bucket at the pump—perhaps your horse would—” “O, _you_ couldn’t——” “Yes, I can easily give the animal a bucket of water.” And I set the bucket under the spout. “If I thought you could, easily——” “I can, I assure you.”