posts."

Allison spoke with evident passion, the ardor of which pervaded his
entire being.

"And yet I dare say you would be the first to disapprove of the other
extreme," admonished Mrs. Allison in her soft and gentle way. "Under
martial law you know, there must be no relaxation of discipline,
notwithstanding the fact that the Americans once more control the city."

"Laxity or no laxity, it is extravagant for him to be housed in the
finest mansion in the city with a retinue of servants and attendants
only excelled by Sir William Howe; to be surrounded by a military guard
of selective choice; to maintain a coach and four with footmen and
servants, all equipped with livery of the most exclusive design; to live
in the greatest splendor, notwithstanding the avowed republican
simplicity of the country as well as the distressed condition of our
affairs and finances. Who is paying for this extravagance? We, of
course. We are being taxed and supertaxed for this profligate waste
while our shops are closed to all future trade. These are not alone my
opinions; they are the expressions of the men about town. This was the
sole topic of conversation today at the Coffee House."

For where else would the news of the day be found if not on the street
corners or at the Coffee House? This latter institution, like its London
prototype, was the chief organ through which the public opinion of the
metropolis continually asserted itself. Its convenience lay in its
adaptability for the making of appointments at any hour of the day, or
for the passing of an evening socially for a very small charge. It had
its characters who became as famous as the institution itself, its
orators to whose eloquence the crowd listened with admiration, its
medical men who might be consulted on any malady merely for the asking,
its poets and humorists who in winter occupied the chairs of learning
nearest the stove and in summer held the choice places on the balcony,
and who discoursed fables and politics with renewed embellishment upon
the advent of every newcomer. The atmosphere always reeked with the
fumes of tobacco. Nowhere else was smoking more constant than at the
Coffee House. And why any one would leave his own home and fireside to
sit amid such eternal fog, was a mystery to every good housewife. But
every man of the upper or the middle class went daily to the Coffee
House to learn and discuss the news of the day.

"I suppose Jim Cadwalader waxed warm