Mose Skinner in New York.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 47, 5 October 1870, Page 3

Mose Skinner in New York.

I arrived here a few days ago, and immediately took rooms at the Astor-house. To be sure, I had no money to pay for them ; but why think of pay if we are only good 1 I have always made it a rule to have the best of everything, even if T am obliged to get trusted for it. But the times are so hard just now that I find it very hard work to make both ends meet. I hadn’t been at the Astor but one day when the clerk brought me my bill. “ Is it customary,” said I, “to pay by the day?” “It is,” he said, “with men of your stamp.” “ What kind of stamp do you take me for?” asked I. “You look like a two cent stamp,” he replied, “ mighty thin ; but if anybody should wet you once you’d stick like thunder; but we don’t propose to try it. You either pay this bill, or get out. Have you got any money?" said he. “ My estimable young friend.” I replied, “you have probably heard of Dr Ben. Franklin, long since deceased. That eminent physician was at one time in the proverb business, and did a very good thing. He sakl, among other things, that time is money. I haven’t got any money, but, as regards time, 1 arn in affluent circumstances ; and if you will receipt that bill, 1 will give you a cheque for as much time as you think equivalent, and throw you in a couple of hours for your trouble.” Ho made no reply ; but from the fact of the porter’s coming Tip immediately, removing my trunk to the side-walk, and hustling me out after it, I inferred that 1 wasn't considered a financial success. 1 immediately called a hackman, and told him to take me to a cheap hut respectable hotel. “ And the cheaper it. is,” I added, “the more ros-metible J ?’n;ll consider if.’*

He drove me to the Excelsior House, and I told him I was under a great obligation to him, and if at any time 1 could do him a favour, I should feel aggrieved if he didn’t speak to me about it, for my proud spirst spurned an obligation. “If you don’t fork over that fifty cents,” said he, “ there ’ll be a funeral in your family, and it won’t be your wife, nor none of your children.” He swore at me awfully, and said he would have it out of my trunk; so he burst it open ; but the contents of that trunk are far from valuable, for I carry it filled with sawdust. It looks just as respectable, and in an emergency of this kind is invaluable. I will not sav that this hackrnan looked daggers at me : he looked a whole arsenal, with a back room full of extra bayonets; and as he mounted his box and drove away, the air was fairly blue with oaths. It fairly curdled my blood to hear him swear such awful swears. I never had my blood curdled before, so I put some in a bottle to look at. —American paper.