Notwithstanding that I was upon the verge of permitting the organ of my destructiveness to preponderate over that of my benevolence, I could not forbear smiling at the old negro's logic. "Eight dollars a week for water!" exclaimed I--"A fellow might drink his pint a day of the very best London particular for one half of that sum--Well, sir, we will try this precious elixir to-morrow morning. In the meantime, thou worthy descendant of Ham, I shall be inexpressibly obliged to you if you will lead me down to the drawing room, in order that I may warm these wearied and rheumatic limbs before retiring to rest." "Drawing room, sir," said old Cato, "I believe there is no such thing in the whole establishment. If folks want _warming_ here they must go to mass Plumb's bar room, which is way down in the cellar." "Bar room, sir!--Bar room!" I retorted, "can it be possible that men, rational men, can abandon the Spring--nature's own sweet medicinal compound, for those deleterious mixtures--those pernicious products of the corrupt art of distillation?" I forgot however that Cato had not entered into all the elaborate views and recondite reasonings of the Temperance Society--and I forthwith checked the rein of my imagination. I found that the best that I could do under all circumstances, was to betake myself to rest, and although I must confess that I had descended some few rounds on that golden ladder, which like Jacob's of old, I verily believed had led to the seventh heaven,--I consoled myself with the hope that _to-morrow_--delightful to-morrow--would spread a new and brighter coloring over my prospects. Cato being dismissed, I retired and slept soundly for the space of two hours at least; at the expiration of which time, I was suddenly startled by a noise immediately underneath me, which to my classical fancy seemed to resemble the shrieks of the ancient Bacchæ, the Priestesses of the Vine-loving God. Let that however pass! There was a mixture of music in it, or of something intended for music, which kept me in a tolerable humor and smoothed over those porcupine points which began to shoot forth at the unpleasant disturbance to my repose. The mystery was soon solved. Cato by direction of the Prime Minister, had placed me directly over the ball room--a most confounded location to be sure for a man fond of sleep--but still I thought that every one was bound to make some sacrifice in order to promote the enjoyments of others. "Tired nature's sweet restorer," lulled me once more into oblivion as soon as the clamor and screeching (for music it was not) had somewhat subsided. Again had the leaden God touched me with his wand, and again were my slumbers invaded by the arrival of my fellow lodger at midnight. _I began to descend a few more rounds on my golden ladder._ I thought of Sancho's exclamation, "Blessed is the man who first invented sleep!"--but what, thought I, is the invention worth if a man cannot use it even in this free country.