, and, to
a man unaccustomed to the things that are in Charleston, a very rowdy
place. This is considered by Charlestonians one of the finest places
in the Southern country; where good suppers and secession (the
all-engrossing subjects with Charlestonians) form the only important
element of conversation. It may be set down as a fact, that among
seven-tenths of the people of Charleston, the standard of a gentleman
is measured according to his knowledge of secession and his ability
to settle the question of hot suppers. We say nothing of that vigorous
patriotism so often manifested in a long string of fulsome toasts that
disgrace the columns of the Mercury and Courier.

At Baker's the place was literally crowded with all kinds and
characters, graded from the honorable judge down to the pot-boy; a
pot-pouri of courtesy and companionship only exhibited in England on the
near approach of elections. The reader may think this strange, but we
can assure him that distinctions are strangely maintained; an exclusive
arrogance being observed in private life, while a too frequent and
general resort to bar-rooms has established plebeianism in public.
Voices were sounding at all parts of the counter, and for as many
different voices as many different mixtures were named. The Captain
received a great many introductions, and almost as many invitations to
drink; but the little man, Master George, claimed the exclusive honor,
and keeping an eye wide awake, took the advantage of his own dimensions,
and began working his way through a barricade of bodies and elbows,
until he had reached the counter. His party followed close, at his
heels. Altogether, they called for cocktails, smashes, toddies,
cobblers, juleps, and legitimates. These disposed of, the company
repaired to what is called a "box up-stairs." Scarcely seated, Master
George rang the bell with such violence that he disjointed the cord and
tassel, and gave such an alarm that three or four darkies came poking
their alarmed countenances through the curtains at once.

"There's nothing like making the fellows mind; they've got so infernal
independent here, and old Tom thinks so much of his young wife, that his
niggers have begun to imitate him. One's enough at a time!" said Master
George, with all the importance of his character. A "bright boy," with
his hair nicely parted on the middle of his head, and frizzed for the
occasion, made a polite bow, while the others retired.

"What ha