The train coming up soon after my arrival, I went on to Buffalo, amid a railway mixture of tag-rag-and-bobtail, squalling infancy and expectorating manhood.

On arriving at the terminus, I engaged a cab, and, after waiting half an hour, I found that Jarvey was trying to pick up some other "fare," not thinking myself and my servant a sufficient cargo to pay well.

I tried to find a railway official; but I might almost as well have looked for a flea in a flower-garden--no badges, no distinctive marks, the station full of all the riff-raff of the town;--it was hopeless.

At last, by a lucky accident, I saw a man step into a small office, so I bolted after him, like a terrier after a badger, but I could not draw him; he knew nothing about the cabs--he was busy--nay, in short, he would not be bothered.

Having experienced this beautiful specimen of Buffalo railway management, I returned to the open air and lit my cigar.