"Alars! no," I anserd; "we boste of our enterprise and improovements,
and yit we are devoid of a Tower. America oh my onhappy country! thou
hast not got no Tower! It's a sweet Boon."

The gates was opened after a while, and we all purchist tickets, and
went into a waitin-room.

"My frens," said a pale-faced little man, in black close, "this is a sad
day."

"Inasmuch as to how?" I said.

"I mean it is sad to think that so many peple have been killed within
these gloomy walls. My frens, let us drop a tear!"

"No," I said, "you must excuse me. Others may drop one if they feel like
it; but as for me, I decline. The early managers of this institootion
were a bad lot, and their crimes were trooly orful; but I can't sob for
those who died four or five hundred years ago. If they was my own
relations I couldn't. It's absurd to shed sobs over things which occurd
during the rain of Henry the Three. Let us be cheerful," I continnered.
"Look at the festiv Warders, in their red flannil jackets. They are
cheerful, and why should it not be thusly with us?"

A Warder now took us in charge, and showed us the Trater's Gate, the
armers, and things. The Trater's Gate is wide enuff to admit about
twenty traters abrest, I should jedge; but beyond this, I couldn't see
that it was superior to gates in gen'ral.

Traters, I will here remark, are a onfornit class of peple. If they