at leisure.

"Come, Ashton, don't stand there in that daft fashion, or the
Canucks will imagine you are one of the irresponsibles who lately
arrived in New York from Europe, and that the cute Yankees have
quietly shipped you over to John Bull's domains."

He was aroused by the voice of Ginsling out of his day-dream to
realize that several cabbies were exerting the utmost of their
lung power in crying up the merits of their respective hotels.

"British American, sir--the best house in town. Won't cost you a
cent to ride there, sir."

"Don't you believe that fellow," shouted another. "Come to the
Tarlton; it is the only house in town which is fit to kape a
gentleman like you, sir." And then several others shouted out in
full chorus, each endeavoring to say something more witty than the
other; and if push, rough bantering wit, and imperturbable good
nature could secure success, certainly each would have had a bus
full.

But Ashton had caught the name "British American," and as he, just
then, was feeling intensely loyal, he determined to put up there,
and he intimated to the runner his resolution. Ginsling, who was
waiting for him to decide, jumped aboard also, and they were soon
quartered at the aforementioned hotel, which they found, if not of
the very highest grade, at least eminently respectable. The
charges, also, were exceedingly moderate.