ere we were to stay the night at a kind of
caravanserai, set apart for emigrants. But I gave way to a thirst for
luxury, separated myself from my companions, and marched with my effects
into the Union Pacific Hotel. A white clerk and a coloured gentleman
whom, in my plain European way, I should call the boots, were installed
behind a counter like bank tellers. They took my name, assigned me a
number, and proceeded to deal with my packages. And here came the tug of
war. I wished to give up my packages into safe keeping; but I did not
wish to go to bed. And this, it appeared, was impossible in an American
hotel.

It was, of course, some inane misunderstanding, and sprang from my
unfamiliarity with the language. For although two nations use the same
words and read the same books, intercourse is not conducted by the
dictionary. The business of life is not carried on by words, but in set
phrases, each with a special and almost a slang signification. Some
international obscurity prevailed between me and the coloured gentleman
at Council Bluffs; so that what I was asking, which seemed very natural
to me, appeared to him a monstrous exigency. He refused, and that with
the plainness of the West. This American manner of conducting matters of
business is, at first, highly unpalatable to the European. When we
approach a man in the way of his calling, and for those services by
which he earns his bread, we consider him for the time being our hired
servant. But in the American opinion, two gentlemen meet and have a
friendly talk with a view to exchanging favours if they will agree to
please. I know not which is the more convenient, nor even which is the
more truly courteous. The English stiffness unfortunately tends to be
continued after the particular transaction is at an end, and thus
favours class separations. But on the other hand, these equalitarian
plainnesses leave an open field for the insolence of Jack-in-office.

I was nettled by the coloured gentleman's refusal, and unbuttoned my
wrath under the similitude of ironical submission. I knew nothing, I
said, of the ways of American hotels; but I had no desire to give
trouble. If there was nothing for it but to get to bed immediately, let
him say the word, and though it was not my habit, I should cheerfully
obey.

He burst into a shout of laughter. "Ah!" said he, "you do not know about
America. They are fine people in America. Oh! you will like them very
well. But you mustn't