only got Captain Fluke now, but generally
have more; and ye couldn't ask a man like Captain Fluke to git up to his
breakfast before half past seven. Then ye don't want yer baggage sent
fur? Perhaps ye've come ter see friends, an' it's a little airly ter
drop in on 'em? Come in, any way, and take a seat."

I accepted the invitation. Sitting indoors might possibly be less dreary
than walking out-of-doors.

"Now I tell ye what ye ought to do," continued the man. "Ye ought to
take a nip of whiskey with some bitters in it. It's always kinder damp
airly in the mornin', and ye must feel it more, bein' in a strange
place. I've always thought a strange place was damper, airly in the
mornin', than a place ye're used ter; and there's nothin' like whiskey
with a little bitters to get out dampness."

I declined to partake of any Central Hotel whiskey, adding that the one
refreshment I now needed was a cup of coffee.

"But there's no fire in the kitchen," said he, "and there won't be for
ever so long. That's how whiskey comes in so handy; don't have to have
no fire. Ye jes' pour it out and drink it, and there's the end of it."

"Not always," I remarked.

"Ye're right there," said he, with a smile. "A good deal depends on how
much ye pour." He turned away, but stopped suddenly. "Look here," said
he; "if ye say so, I'll make ye a cup of coffee. I've got an alcohol
lamp up there that I can boil water with in no time. I'm out of alcohol,
but, if you'll pay for it, I'll fill the lamp with whiskey; that'll burn
just as well."

I willingly agreed to his proposition, and the man immediately
disappeared into the back part of the house.

I sat and looked about the little bar-room, in which there was
absolutely nothing of the quaint interest which one associates with a
country inn. It was a bare, cold, hard, sandy, dirty room; its air
tainted with the stale odors of whiskey, sugar, and wood still wet from
its morning mopping. In less than fifteen minutes the man placed before
me a cup of coffee and some soda biscuit. The coffee was not very good,
but it was hot, and when I had finished it I felt like another man.

"There now," cried the bar-keeper, looking at me with great
satisfaction, "don't that take the dampness out of ye? I tell ye there's
no such stiffener in the airly mornin' as whiskey; and if ye don't use
it in one way, ye can in another."

Truly the world seemed warmer and more cheerful; the sun was brighter.
Perhaps now