anche to buy and pay for, and thus economy was
more necessary than ever. We took third-class tickets to Denver, the
capital of Colorado, and for a part of the way, luckily, got an
emigrant car, in which we could find room for our mattresses, and so
managed to sleep at night. But, as I have said before, accommodation
for emigrants is given westward only, and I know not why this
exception was made over a part of the line; but this I do know, when,
during the last two nights and one day of the journey, we were put
into a second-class carriage because there was no third, and had to
sit up on seats all night, it was very trying.

Every one knows the Americans spit a good deal, but few know the
extent to which they carry the nasty habit. The second-class
carriage was far worse in this respect than the emigrant car. The
floor was literally covered with saliva, and sit where you would, for
it was crowded, you did not feel safe. True, they are good shots, and
can generally make sure to three square inches of the spot they aim
at; still, when you are surrounded with shooters, as we were in this
car, you feel nervous, especially at night when the dim light makes
it more than ever hazardous. In the Pullman car spitting on the floor
is not allowed; the class so travelling are naturally more
considerate in this way, nay, possibly, we will hope, steer clear of
the habit, but to some even there it is a necessity, and entails an
open window or frequent rushes to the spittoon, put considerately out
of the way, so that in the Pullman car you avoid the nuisance.

I may as well group nasty subjects together, then the fastidious
reader can skip them. The toothpick is more in vogue in America than
in any country I have seen. A prolonged use of it is made after each
meal, but some people are never without it. It is held in the hand
when an argument is enforced with manual action, and when the
speaker is satisfied he has proved his case, it is transferred to the
lips, as if that was its natural place, while the owner leans back
and surveys you blandly. If you are convinced, it probably remains
there; if you are not (though some have acquired the power of
speaking without removing it), the hand grasps it once more, and
brandishes it like a dagger. I must though, in justice to the
American, state that the most inveterate toothpick-man I ever met was
an Englishman who had been in America since boyhood, and crossed the
Atlantic with me on my retu