ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR.
It was some time, if I recollect right,
in the early part of the autumn of 1808,
that a stranger applied for lodgings at
the Independent Columbian Hotel, in Mulberry
street, of which I am landlord. He
was a small, brisk-looking old gentleman,
dressed in a rusty black coat, a pair of
olive velvet breeches, and a small cocked
hat. He had a few gray hairs plaited
and clubbed behind, and his beard seemed
to be of some eight and forty hours'
growth. The only piece of finery which
he bore about him was a bright pair of
square silver shoe-buckles, and all his
baggage was contained in a pair of saddle-bags,
which he carried under his arm.
His whole appearance was something out
of the common run; and my wife, who is
a very shrewd body, at once set him
down for some eminent country schoolmaster.
As the Independent Columbian Hotel
is a very small house, I was a little puzzled
at first where to put him; but my
wife, who seemed taken with his looks,
would needs put him in her best chamber,
which is genteelly set off with the profiles
of the whole family done in black, by those
two great painters, Jarvis and Wood, and
commands a very pleasant view of the
new grounds on the Collect, tog
