But the first hotel we encountered in Paris had for a landlord one who must have commanded the long, low, black schooner, “The Terror of the Seas,” who never spared a prisoner, or gave quarter to anybody, but who hove overboard for the sharks every human being he captured, without reference to age, sex, or previous condition of servitude. Indeed, I think that after he was driven from the seas, he took a shy at highway robbery before taking his hotel in Paris, thus fitting himself thoroughly for his profession.
“Ze room will be ten francs, messieurs,” was the remark of the polite villain who showed us our apartments.
“We, we,” we cheerfully replied, for the room was worth it. We said “we, we,” that the gentleman might know that we understood French, and that he need not unnecessarily strand himself upon the rocks of the English language.
But the next morning! The bill was made out, and as we glanced at it we forgave the English landlords—every one of them. Apartment ten francs, candles, or “bougies,” as the barbarous French call them, two and one-half francs; attendance (we had not seen a servant), two and a half francs each, five francs. Then there were charges for liquors enough for Bloss, the American showman, not a particle of which had been ordered or had been brought to our room, and so on.
We expostulated, but when we commenced that, the clerk began to talk in French, and as all the French we had between us was “we, we,” he had rather the advantage. In reply to some question he appeared to be asking, we said, “we, we,” whereupon he dropped back into English promptly, and said that inasmuch as we admitted that the bill was right, why didn’t we pay it? That “we, we” was our ruin.
“A little knowledge is a dangerous thing;
Drink deep or taste not the Pierian spring.”
Were we over with it? By no means. As we were ready to file down the stairs there came to our various rooms more porters than we ever supposed lived, each of whom seized a piece of baggage, when one might well have carried it all. We discovered, finally, what that meant. Those who did not carry baggage stood grinning in the passages, with their hands extended, and those who did expected each a franc. As we had passed the concierge, who had certainly been no earthly use to us, his hand was extended, and to crown the whole and have it lack nothing, a chambermaid came running to me with a handkerchief which “Monsieur had left in his room,” and out went her hand. The brazen hussy had abstracted it from my valise, and held it till the last moment, that she might have some excuse for a gratuity.
THE USES OF SPECTACLES.
Tibbitts and the others shed silver freely, but the Professor did not. Entrenched behind his spectacles he did not catch the eye of one of them, and he stalked majestically through the lot, turning neither to the right nor the left till he was safely ensconced in his fiacre. That pair of spectacles saved him at least their cost that day. I shall wear them hereafter. They are good for this purpose, and then one behind this wall of glass can look another man in the eye steadily when he is enlarging on facts. Spectacles have uses beside aiding the vision.