A DAY'S RAILROADING
Happiness has commonly a good appetite; and the thought of the
fortunately ended adventures of the night, the fresh morning air, and the
content of their own hearts, gifted our friends, by the time the boat
reached Albany, with a wholesome hunger, so that they debated with spirit
the question of breakfast and the best place of breakfasting in a city
which neither of them knew, save in the most fugitive and sketchy way.
They decided at last, in view of the early departure of the train, and
the probability that they would be more hurried at a hotel, to breakfast
at the station, and thither they went and took places at one of the many
tables within, where they seemed to have been expected only by the flies.
The waitress plainly had not looked for them, and for a time found their
presence so incredible that she would not acknowledge the rattling that
Basil was obliged to make on his glass. Then it appeared that the cook
would not believe in them, and he did not send them, till they were quite
faint, the peppery and muddy draught which impudently affected to be
coffee, the oily slices of fugacious potatoes slipping about in their
shallow dish and skillfully evading pursuit, the pieces of beef that
simulated steak, the hot, greasy biscuit, steaming evilly up into the
face when opened, and then soddening into masses of condensed dyspepsia.
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