----"Bell echoes bell,
Meal follows meal,
Till the ear aches for the last welcome summons
That tolls an end to the day's cookery."
At this time there cannot be far short of one hundred and fifty persons dining daily in the public room: did I desire to dine at it, however, the hospitality of my friends I find would render this impracticable.
November 3rd.—Dined at Harlaem, a pretty village eight miles from the city, but daily drawing closer to it. Here a certain Mrs. Bradshaw fries chickens in a sauce tartarre, to the which could pen of mine do justice, "I guess" I know folk "our side" the water who would be stealing across to Harlaem some fine day to dine. We had tarapins too, of whose excellence most unfortunates in Europe, happily for their poor wives and innocent children, are ignorant.
On our way home halted at Cato's, and discussed the comparative merits of hail-storm and julep, demonstrating our arguments by the practical experiments of this distinguished spirituous professor.
The day deliciously genial, and the night like a fine harvest-moon at home. Of a verity this American autumn, or fall, as they call it, is a most delicate season.
Friday, 8th.—Up with the lark, and, accompanied by Captain D——n, got on board the steamer for Philadelphia, viâ Amboy.