"Mr." gives you the idea of not wishing to make a profit; but he gives
you nothing else. You wish to be "_en pension_"--"Ver' well, Sor, it
is seventeen francs (or marks) the day;" but you soon discover that
your room is extra, and that you may not dine "apart;" in a word, you
are "Mr.'s" bondsman. Then there is the persuasive lady, who perhaps,
_may_ be stopping a week or more, but her plans are undecided--at any
rate six days--"Will 'Mr.' make a reduction?" "Mr." however, continues
his manuscript, oh ever so long! and smiles; his smile is worse than
his bite! I, the _Habitué_, approach "Mr." with a furtive clandestine
air, and observe cheerily, "I hope to remain here a month."
"Certainly, Sor; is better you do; will be se same as last year; I
gif you se same appartement, you see."--This with an air of favour.
I thank him profusely--for nothing. My bill turns out to be higher
than if I had been overcharged separately for everything. "Mr." is
the Master of the Arts of extras. He does not wish to make a profit;
oh no! but--ahem--he makes it. As for the outsiders who straggle in
casually for luncheon and want to be sharp with "Mr." afterwards,
they are soon settled. One who won't be done, complains of a prince's
ransom for a potato-salad.--"If you haf pertatas, you pay for
pertatas."--TALLEYRAND could not have been more unanswerable.

"Mr." is immense at entertainments; it is "Mr." who organises "Se
Spanish Consairt," "Se Duetto of se Poor Blinds," and, of course, "Se
Bal"; he is very proud of his latest acquisition--the Orchestrion that
plays the dinner down. To see "Mr." dispatch itinerant minstrels would
do our County Council good.

"Mr." knows our compatriots _au fond_; he makes no extra charge for
toast at breakfast, and you only pay half-a-crown for a pot of George