"If ye plaze, zur, there's a young man below wishes to see you," says the servant. "Ha, tell 'im to clear out!" John having predestinated the "young man," he gave an apoplectic snort, relapsed into his lethargy, and the servant whirled down into the rotunda, and informed the "young man" what the gentleman desired. "He did, eh?" says the young man, who looked as if he might be a clerk in an importing house. The young man left, in something of a high dudgeon. "What'r yer at now?" roared John Thomas, a second time, roused by the servant's rat-tat-too. "It's a gentleman wants to see yez's, zur." "Tell him to go to the d--!" and John snored again. "Is John in?" asks the gentleman, as the servant returns. "Mister _Thomas_ did yez mane, zur?" "No, yes, it is (looking at his tablets) same thing, I suppose; Thomas Johns," says the gentleman. "I belave it's right, zur," says the servant. "Well, what did he say?" "Faith, I think he's not in a good humor, betwane us, zur; he says yez may go to the divil!" "Did he? Well, that's polite, any how--invite a gentleman to dine with him, and then meet him with such language as that. The infernal 'blue nose,' I'll pull it, I'll tweak it until he'll roar like a calf!" and off went "the gentleman," hot as No. 6. "I belave he's not in, zur," says the same servant, answering another inquiry for John Thomas, or Thomas Johns, the carriage driver was not certain which. "Oh, ho!" says the servant, "it's a ride ould John's going fur to take till himself, and didn't want any callers." Reaching John's door, he began his tattoo. "Be hang'd to ye, what'r ye at now?" growls John, partly up and dressed. "The carriage is here, zur." "What carriage is that?" growls John, continuing his toilet. "I don't know, zur; I'll go down and sae the _number_, if ye plaze." "Thunder and tommy! What do I care for the number? Go tell the carriage----" "To go to the divil, zur?" says the servant, in anticipation of the command. "No, you bog-trotter, go tell the carriage to wait." The servant went down, and John continued his toilet, muttering-- "Ah, some of their _haccommodations_, I expect; these American landlords, as they style 'em in these infernal wild woods 'ere, do manage to give a body tolerable sort of haccommodations; ha, but they'll take care to look hout for the dollars. I don't know, tho', these fellers 'ere appear tolerably clever; want me to ride hout, I suppose, and see some of their Yankee lions. Haw! haw! _Lions!_ I wonder what they'd say hif they saw Lun'un, and looked at St. Paul's once!" Getting through his toilet--and it takes an Englishman as long to fix his stiff cravat and that _stiffer_ and stauncher shirt-collar, and rub his hat, than a Frenchman to rig out _tout ensemble_, to say nothing of the gallons of water and dozens of towels he uses up in the operation--John found the carriage waiting; he asked no questions, but jumped in.