The chap looked at me from the top of my head to the sole of my foot, as if he'd never seen a full sized Yankee in his life; and after fidgeting about, says he—
"Yes, we du sometimes, but mebby you've mistook the place."
"I reckon not," says I. "How much du you charge a week? I paid two dollars and fifty cents down in Cherry-street, but I s'pose you go as high as four dollars, or say four fifty."
The feller looked sort of flustered; so thinks says I, I haint got up the notch yet, so I'll give one more hist.
"Wal, sir, it goes agin the grain; but seeing as it's the Astor House, per'aps I might give as high as five dollars, if you'd throw in the washing. I aint hard on clothes, say a shirt and three dickeys, with a pair of yarn socks a week, and a silk hankercher once a fortnight. I shall have to be a trifle extravagant in that line."
The feller grew red in the face, and looked as if he was tickled tu death at gitting such an offer. Think sez I, I hope to gracious I haint made a coot of myself, and bid up too high. I got so consarned before the chap spoke, that I sort of wanted to git off edgeways. There was a great day-book a lying by him, and sez I—
"I see you trust out board by your books; but I'm ready to hand over every Saturday night; so per'haps you'll take less for cash."
The feller sort of choked in a larf, and sez he—
"That aint a day-book, only one we keep for folks that come here to write down their names in."
Think sez I, I guess I'll write my name, and then he'll see that he's got hold of a cute hand for a bargain, and may dock off a trifle on that are five dollars.