You get into your cab and drive to the station. The legal fare is one and six pence. The cabby expects six pence in addition, for himself, the porter who shows you what car to get into, with the uniform of the company on his back, expects four pence for that, the other porter who takes your valise to the car-door, must be fed, and so on, and so on forever and forever. I tried conclusions with a hotel clerk in a city in England, but I shall never do it again. There is no use. You might as well submit first as last. You may struggle, but they have you as certainly as their ancestors and prototypes, the old Barons, had the Jews. I went to bed at night with two candles on the mantel. It was bright moonlight, and as I had read my regular chapter in the Revised Testament in the office, I had no occasion for light. I simply wanted to get into bed, therefore I didn't light the candles, at all. The next morning I found in my bill a charge for two candles, two shillings. I protested. "I used no candles," I said. "But they were there," was the cool reply. "Perhaps you used matches--it is all the same." "But I didn't use matches, and if I did, I had my own." "We do everything for the comfort of the guests of the house. There were candles and matches for you." He never blushed but took the two shillings as coolly as possible, receipted the bill and said "Thank you," and hoped if I ever visited the place again I would call upon them. [Illustration: THE CANDLE EPISODE.] I presume I shall. It doesn't make any difference where you go, it is all the same; and if you are to be swindled, it is preferable to have it done by somebody you have a slight acquaintance with. It reminded me of the man who built a tavern in Indiana. A traveler stopped with him one night, and the next morning asked for his bill. [Sidenote: THE ENGLISH LANDLORD.] "Twelve hundred and fifty dollars," said the landlord, promptly. "Twelve hundred and fifty dollars for one day! It is outrageous!" "It is a little high," said the landlord, "but I'll tell you how it is. I opened this house exactly a year ago yesterday. I expected to make a thousand dollars the first year, and you are the first customer I have had. I ought to charge you a little more to cover insurance, but I like you, and don't want to be hard on you. Twelve hundred and fifty dollars will do." The English landlord likewise makes out his bill with the calm confidence that he will never see his guest again. He seldom does--if the guest can help it. [Illustration: THE LITTLE BILL.] I have orated much against the American hotel clerk and his diamond pin and cool insolence, but I shall never do it again. He is a babe in arms as compared with his English brother. [Illustration: GETTING READY TO LEAVE A HOTEL.]