"That New York is a fearful and wonderful place," said Colonel Manysnifters gravely. "I will never forget the first time I went there as a young man. Why, I didn't get any sleep at all! The first night I was there I turned in about two-thirty, took off my clothes, and got in bed; but it seemed sort of foolish and wasteful. Sleep in New York? Well, hardly. I argued that I could do that at home--and me paying three dollars a day! So I got right up, dressed, and started out to see the sights. It was about three o'clock then, and there wasn't any one around but the night clerk and myself. I asked him if he couldn't lock up the house and go out with me for a little while. He smiled, and said that he would like to do it, but he was afraid the boss might kick; so we had a drink together, and I went by myself. I was a green boy then and didn't know any better, but I am on to the little old town now, all right! They all know me up there. As soon as I get off the ferry, perfect strangers come up, call me by name, shake hands, and slip me a card. I don't mean to brag, but I know the location of every poolroom in the city! I have a friend in New York who writes the dramatic criticisms for the moving-picture shows; he puts me in touch with the theatrical and newspaper element, and I have seen some high old times up there, I tell you! One night--but, hold on--I've had my inning, Mr. O'Brien is at the bat, I think." [Illustration: "--Writes the dramatic criticisms for the moving picture shows."] Mr. O'Brien blushingly admitted the charge. "This is the first time I ever spoke in public," said the young man modestly, "and I crave your indulgence. If you don't mind, I will tell you about Judge Waddington and myself at Atlantic City last summer. Every one in Washington knows the Judge, and hopes that some day Congress will take up his claim and adjust it satisfactorily. The old gentleman is about all in, but we are doing what we can for him." XII O'BRIEN'S NARRATIVE "I met him on the Boardwalk, and asked him where he was stopping. "'Oh, a nice, home-like place--right over there,' indicating its position by a careless wave of the hand; 'nice place, quiet, no music at meals, or that sort of thing. Good cooking, no dogs or children. I came down here to rest. None of the glare and glitter of the Boardwalk hotels for me; no, sir!' "'What's the name of your place?' I asked. "'Hasn't any name--just a private cottage; old Southern family, one or two paying guests, you know. They have been coming here for years; never took boarders before, but the head of the house was caught in the Knicknack Trust affair last fall. Funny how many were hurt by that bust-up. Nearly all the boys down in Washington say they were stung. As I remarked, old man Montgomery is rather hard up just now; but proud, dev'lish proud, sir. I consider it a privilege to be taken in. They have rented the cottage next door for their guests. Every convenience.'