The next day was Sunday, so it seemed reasonable to give the
horse a good rest and stay in Bath two nights. The Hominy House
looked clean and old-fashioned, and the name amused me, so in I
went. It was a kind of high-class boarding-house, with mostly old
women around. It looked to me almost literary and Elbert Hubbardish
compared to the Grand Central in Shelby. The folks there stared at
me somewhat suspiciously and I half thought they were going to say
they didn't take pedlars; but when I flashed a new five-dollar bill
at the desk I got good service. A five-dollar bill is a patent of
nobility in New England.
My! how I enjoyed that creamed chicken on toast, and buckwheat cakes
with syrup! After you get used to cooking all your own grub, a meal
off some one else's stove is the finest kind of treat. After supper
I was all prepared to sit out on the porch with my sweater on and
give a rocking chair a hot box, but then I remembered that it was up
to me to carry on the traditions of Parnassus. I was there to spread
the gospel of good books.
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