So great was the anxiety of the reporters to jot down the most trifling occurrence, that they followed close at the heels of the juvenile rabble, and at times were in great danger of getting their heads cracked by the missiles hurled by the infuriated alderman, who, in his heart, had a holy horror of such persons, and would have killed a dozen of them without shedding a tear, though they had several times made very intelligible English of his very unintelligible speeches. Fatigued and almost out of breath, they, however reached the grand hotel in good time, and quite took possession of the landlord's best parlor, though he was as polite a gentleman as could be met with in a day's journey. They then entered his gorgeous bar-room, and partook freely of his liquors, (of which he kept none but the best,) telling him that as they were without money, he must charge the score to the freedom of the press. The host being accustomed to the pranks of these worthy men, as they are called by their employers, bid them take comfort in his house; at the same time, knowing their propensities, he cautioned them against making free with his chambermaids.

The cortége had been proceeding at a slow pace, which so increased the difficulties they met from the ragged urchins along the road, that the driver whipped up and arrived at the hotel in peace. But this rather increased than diminished Alderman Dooley's difficulties, for old Battle being unable to quicken his pace, the urchins made him the object of their mischief, and so retarded his progress that the major had arrived full half an hour when he reached the hotel. In truth, he was compelled to dismount and lead the animal, in order to secure his own safety.

The reception at the hotel, as it appeared on the following morning in the newspapers, was something truly magnificent, proving conclusively that the reporters had seen no less than one hundred persons for every one present. My love for truth in all matters of history constrains me to say, that these reporters made a great mistake, since nothing could have been more simple, and yet in keeping with true greatness, than the major's reception at the hotel, and this for the very reason that he had outdistanced the rabble. My declining years and gray hairs forbid me envying any man his laurels, but I will not degrade a noble profession by making myself the vassal of every great man who sets foot on these shores. I say, then, that when the cattle and the major reached the door of this spacious pile of white marble, wherein cheap luxury awaits the million, it was near sundown, and the only persons standing at the grand entrance, were those eight or ten bediamonded gentlemen who carry on their occupation in suspicious places, and are commonly called swell mobsmen, though judging from the air and circumstance with which they occupy the great entrance to the great St. Nicholas, it would seem as if the landlord had employed them for the double purpose of ogling ladies as they passed and holding up his marble columns. I should indeed be sorry to hear that this was true, for an extremely respectable acquaintance tells me the landlord is a most excellent gentleman, and looks well to the reputation of his house.

As the carriage stopped the major cast a glance upward, as if viewing the curiously wrought lintels of the massive marble front, and exclaimed: "Upon my soul, gentlemen, it is so grand I begin to fear I shall not be comfortable in it." He had scarcely concluded this sentence, when a distinguished politician, habited in soiled drab trousers and a shabby brown dress coat, and a badly collapsed hat, which he wore well down over his eyes, rushed eagerly out, and was followed by a mellow faced policeman, with a green patch over his left eye and a club in his right hand. Constituting in themselves a committee of reception, the distinguished politician, who was a delegate from the custom house, now made himself right busy in getting the major and the high functionaries safely out of the carriage. And this being done without delay, the policeman ordered the swell mobsmen to stand back until the distinguished politician had presented his congratulations, which he did, adding that he had long been familiar with the potency of the major's greatness, which the city, unlike other cities, was always ready to honor.

The strange figure cut by the major, in his stranger uniform, attracted the attention of sundry enthusiastic chambermaids, who appeared upon the balconies, and recognizing in the character of the team the arrival of an important personage, commenced waving napkins, and giving such other visible signs of their admiration, that he was with difficulty restrained from making them a speech on the spot.

He now moved quietly into the house, the jaded policeman on his right, and the distinguished politician on his left, and followed by the three high officials and a score of reporters. Turning neither to the right nor the left, he proceeded straight on into the great bar room, where the queerness of his walk and raiment attracted no little attention among the well dressed gentry who nightly meet there to discuss over well compounded punches all affairs appertaining to the welfare of the state. And here, having quenched their thirst in mixtures of whiskey and water, which is the favorite drink with all really great politicians, the party quietly retired up stairs to a splendidly furnished parlor and bedroom, provided at the expense of the city, against which a score of six shillings now stood at the bar.

A sudden commotion in the street, accompanied by shouts and huzzas that made the very air echo, discovered the fact that Alderman Dan Dooley had arrived. Indeed, the scene that at that moment was being enacted in Broadway beggared description, and caused a great scampering among the reporters, who hastened to the spot in order not to lose a single occurrence. There stood old Battle, bespattered with mud, and in a condition so pitiable, that no truly philanthropic gentleman could have withheld his tears. Near him stood Mr. Alderman Dan Dooley, excited, distracted, infuriated, and swearing by all the saints in the calendar, to have revenge of a swarm of unwashed and ragged urchins, who stood jeering him at a respectful distance, and whom his sudden advances and retreats rather amused than daunted; for although they seemed in no way inclined to stand his charge, they would follow his retreat with renewed energy. A waiter now relieved the animal of the saddlebags and holsters, and taking him by the bridle led him limping to the stable, where he seized with great avidity the hay and oats set before him. A second policeman, according to a well respected custom among the force, came up when all the trouble was over, and addressing the discomfited alderman, said: "If I had been a minute sooner, sir, this thing would not have occurred; but I was called from my beat to quell a brush at fists between two of our common councilmen, at Florence's. I now come to your protection; and as you are a worthy gentleman, whom it is my office to obey, say but the word and I pledge you my faith to club the heads of every one of your persecutors. But first let me entreat you to get into the house, and if my club fail not, you shall see how I can keep the peace."

The alderman listened with great attention to the policeman, converted his rage into discretion, and disappeared in the great bar room of the St. Nicholas, where he forgot his afflictions in a stout draught of water and whiskey, which so addressed itself to ............