won't do if he don’t get em; because he’s drunk and crazy and desperate, and nothing’ll soothe him down but them cussed books.” 
ROOM NO. 15. [I had not made any threats, and was not in the condition ascribed to me by the porter.]
“Well, go on; but I will be around when he goes to rairing and charging, and the first rair he makes I’ll make him rair out of the window.” And then the old gentleman went off, growling as before.
The genius of that porter was something wonderful. He put an armful of books on the bed and said “Good night” as confidently as if he knew perfectly well that those books were exactly my style of reading matter. And well he might. His selection covered the whole range of legitimate literature. It comprised “The Great Consummation,” by Rev. Dr. Cummings—theology; “Revised Statutes of the State of Missouri”—law; ‘‘The Complete Horse-Doctor”—medicine; “The Toilers of the Sea,” by Victor Hugo—romance; “The works of William Shakspeare”—poetry. I shall never cease to admire the tact and the intelligence of that gifted porter.
But all the donkeys in Christendom, and most of the Egyptian boys, I think, are at the door, and there is some noise going on, not to put it in stronger language.—We are about starting to the illustrious Pyramids of Egypt, and the donkeys for the voyage are under inspection. I will go and select one before the choice animals are all taken.
