me they had met since their arrival, which was
above a week before; indeed, it was nine days, for the landlord of the
house where the Yorkshireman lived had sent his "little bill" two days
before this, it being an established rule of his house, and one which
was conspicuously posted in all the rooms, that the bills were to be
settled weekly; and Mr. Stubbs had that very morning observed that the
hat of Monsieur l'Hote was not raised half so high from his head, nor
his body inclined so much towards the ground as it was wont to be--a
pretty significant hint that he wanted his cash.--Now the Yorkshireman,
among his other accomplishments, had a turn for play, and unfortunately
had been at the Salon the night before, when, after continuous run
of ill-luck, he came away twelve francs below the amount of the
hotel-keeper's bill, consequently a rumpus with Mr. Jorrocks could not
have taken place at a more unfortunate moment. Thinking, however, a good
night's rest or two might settle him down, and put all matters right,
he let things alone until the Tuesday following, when again finding
Monsieur's little "memoire" on one side of his coffeecup, and a framed
copy of the "rules and regulations" of the house on the other, he
felt constrained to take some decisive step towards its liquidation.
Accordingly, having breakfasted, he combed his hair straight over his
face, and putting on a very penitential look, called a cab, and desired
the man to drive him to the Rue des Mauvais-Garcons.--After zigzagging,
twisting, and turning about in various directions, they at last jingled
to the end of a very narrow dirty-looking street, whose unswept pavement
had not been cheered by a ray of sunshine since the houses were built.
It was excessively narrow, and there were no flags on either side; but
through the centre ran a dribbling stream, here and there obstructed
by oyster-shells, or vegetable refuse, as the water had served as
a plaything for children, or been stopped by servants for domestic
purposes. The street being extremely old, of course the houses were very
large, forming, as all houses do in Paris, little squares entered by
folding doors, at one side of which, in a sort of lodge, lives the
Porter--"Parlez au Portier"--who receives letters, parcels, and
communications for the several occupiers, consisting sometimes of twenty
or thirty different establishments in one house. From this functionary
may be learned the names of the different te