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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"Rudder Grange"

ex-President Andrew Jackson,
which he wasn't ex-President anyway, bein' dead; but Jone he
whispered they was travelin' under nommys dess plummys (I told him
to say that), an' he would fix it all right in the mornin'. An'
then we got some supper, which it took them two lunertics a long
time to eat, for they was all the time forgettin' what particular
kind o' business they was about, an' then we was showed to our
rooms. They had two rooms right across the hall from ours. We
hadn't been inside our room five minutes before Mrs. General
Jackson come a-knockin' at the door.
"'Look a-here,' she says to me, 'there's a unforeseen contingency
in my room. An' it smells.'
"So I went right in, an' sure enough it did smell, for she had
turned on all the gases, besides the one that was lighted.
"'What did you do that for?' says I, a-turnin' them off as fast as
I could.
"'I'd like to know what they're made for,' says she, 'if they isn't
to be turned on.'
"When I told Jone about this he looked real serious, an' jus' then
a waiter came upstairs an' went into the big man's room. In a
minute he come out an' says to Jone an' me, a-grinnin':
"'We can't suit him no better in this house.'
"'What does he want?' asks Jone.
"'Why, he wants a smaller bed,' says the waiter. 'He says he can't
sleep in a bed as big as that, an' we haven't none smaller in this
house, which he couldn't get into if we had, in my opinion,' says
he.
"'All right,' says Jone.


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