Directly I got to the hotel, I requested the landlady to let me have a room with a good fire in it, and a cup of hot tea as soon as ever she could, as I was wet through, and afraid of catching my death, unless I had something warm, and put on some nice dry things immediately. Once in my room, with my bonnet off, I couldn’t help saying to myself, “Drat those third-class carriages! I declare if I’m not as wet as a bathing woman!” And so I was, for my hair hung down the sides of my face positively like skeins of silk. As for my poor, beautiful Leghorn bonnet, it had no more shape in it than a basket-woman’s in Covent Garden Market, and whenever I went across the room I declare the wet came dripping from me for all the world as if I was a walking umbrella. However, I soon had my box up stairs, and set to work about getting my things out. But when I put the key in the lock, do what I would I couldn’t make it turn. Of course, I thought some of the crumbs of the mutton sandwiches I had in my pocket must have got into it, so I kept blowing down it, and knocking it on my hand, but all to no good, till at last, I got into such a passion with it, that I put the end of my parasol into the handle of the key, and at last forced it round. Oh dear, oh dear! I thought I should have fainted when I lifted up the lid. Goodness gracious me! if I hadn’t got some brute of a man’s box, instead of my own. I flew to the bell and nearly pulled it down. When the landlady came up, I shrieked out, “They’ve given me the wrong box; you must send down to the station directly and see if mine is there, for I know I shall be laid up for months with a cold, if I don’t have it.” “Mercy me, mum, you don’t say so!” replied _that_ landlady; “and I shouldn’t wonder if yours has gone on to Southampton, now; however, the porter will be here when the next train comes in, and then I can ask him all about it, for really there isn’t a single soul in the house that I can spare at present.” “Why, my good woman,” I exclaimed, “I’m drenched to the skin, and what am I to do in the meantime?” “You shall have your tea directly, mum, and the next train wont be above an hour at the most. Would you like a nice hot chop with it, mum?” “Chop! No!” I screamed, “I don’t want any chops; I want my box.” “Very well, mum, you shall have it as soon as possible--with a nice mixed pickle, mum;” and then, hearing one of the bells ring, out she flew, leaving me to steam away before the fire, just as if I was a potato.