Lehigh University
The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 203 [12-31-1860]

        My life in the Charleston Hotel.
self changed to another room at the hotel,
48 in number, on floor higher, at the rear of
the building, looking out at a sort of quadrangu-
lar prospect including the servants quarters, and
over the roof, the mistily seen bay and harbor.
Colt occupied the next apartment, which, like
mine had a window, not in the corner, though
the little fireplace was.   Outside, the long
corridor, lit at night by gas, had a dreary,
prison like aspect, with the numbered doors,
a sort of barred still room or laundry near one
end and a window looking out on Hayne Street.
By night there was a hideous amount of tramping
up and down, the servants, white or black, being
heavy-footed and apparently stupidly indifferent
to the comfort of the sleepers.    Often, when tired
out, nervous, dreary and morbid, my legs
aching with rheumatism, I�d get to sleep, I�d
start up with of a temporary alarm,
and then lay, lonely and sad, till slumber came
again.      In the morning I never cared to rise
early, getting down to breakfast by 9 �, when
I�d buy the morning�s Courier and Mercury in
the hall of the hotel, then enter the big dining
room and order breakfast.    At first, I fared
indifferently, but presently finding that the
system of bucksheesh was in general operation,               
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