“But, sir,” said I to the bar-keeper, “cannot you manage to put me into a room with only one other person?”
“I will see what I can do for you, but I cannot promise; I must first make my calculation.”
“And you will of course put me together with a gentleman?”
“Nobody stops here but gentlemen; you need not have any scruples about that,” replied the bar-keeper rather indignantly.
I thought it best to be silent if I wanted to sleep that night at all, and thus quietly awaited my sentence. At last the bar-keeper had completed the distribution of the rooms; and began to call out the names of the gentlemen, telling each the number of the room he was to occupy. When he called out my name he smiled; and turning to me with a sarcastic expression, “We have to put you in a room with one gentleman,” said he; “but, should you stay longer, we can to-morrow give you a room by yourself.” I bowed in token of acknowledgment, and betook myself at once to the quarters assigned to me.
“Also going to Washington?” demanded my chum as I entered the room.
“Yes, sir; are you going?”
“I am obliged to go,” replied he (with an air of importance); “I am always there during the session of Congress.”
“Perhaps I have the honour of addressing a senator?”
“No, not exactly.”