The boys were very successful in their selection of a hotel, for the Queen’s Hotel, in Glasgow, is one of the most comfortable and best managed inns in the kingdom.

The party rode to the inn, in a cab which they took at the station in Glasgow, when the train arrived there, instead of walking, as they had done in going from the boat to the station at Greenock.  The boys asked Mr. George’s advice on this point, and he said that, though he was unwilling to take any responsibility, he had no objection whatever to giving his advice, whenever they wished for it.  So he told them that he thought it was always best to go to a hotel in a carriage of some sort.

“Because,” said he, “in England and Scotland, ­that is, in all the great towns, ­if we come on foot, they think that we are poor, and of no consequence, and so give us the worst rooms, and pay us very little attention.”

When the cab arrived at the hotel Waldron said, ­

“There, Mr. George, we have brought you safe to the hotel.  Now we have nothing more to do.  We give up the command to you now.”

“Very well,” said Mr. George.

Two or three nicely dressed porters and waiters came out from the door of the hotel, to receive the travellers and wait upon them in.  The porters took the baggage, even to the coats and umbrellas, and the head waiter led the way into the house.  Waldron paid the cabman as he stepped out of the cab.  He knew what the fare was, and he had it all ready.  Mr. George said to the waiter that he wanted two bedrooms, one with two beds in it.  The waiter bowed, with an air of great deference and respect, and said that the chambermaid would show the rooms.  The chambermaid, who was a very nice-looking and tidily-dressed young woman, stood at the foot of the stairs, ready to conduct the newly-arrived party up to the chambers.  She accordingly led the way, and Mr. George and the boys followed ­two neat-looking porters coming behind with the various articles of baggage.

The rooms were very pleasant apartments, situated on the front side of the house, and looking out upon a beautiful square.  The square was enclosed in a high iron railing.  It was adorned with trees and shrubbery, and intersected here and there with smooth gravel walks.  In the centre was a tall Doric column, with a statue on the summit.  There were other statues in other parts of the square.  One of them was in honor of Watt, who is the great celebrity of Glasgow ­so large a share of the prosperity and wealth of the whole region being due so much to his discoveries.

“Now, boys,” said Mr. George, “you will find water and every thing in your room.  Make yourselves look as nice as a pin, and then go down stairs and find the coffee room.  When you have found it, choose a pleasant table, and order dinner.  You may order just what you please.”

So Mr. George left the boys to themselves, and went into his own room.

In about half an hour Rollo came up and told Mr. George that the dinner was ready.  So Mr. George went down into the coffee room, Rollo showing him the way.

Mr. George found that the boys had chosen a very pleasant table indeed for their dinner.  It was in a corner, between a window and the fireplace.  There was a pleasant coal fire in the fireplace, with screens before it, to keep the glow of it from the faces of the guests.  The room was quite large, and there was a long table extending up and down the middle of it, one of which is seen in the engraving.  This table was set for dinner or supper.  There were other smaller tables for separate parties in the different corners of the room.

Mr. George and the boys took their seats at the table.

“We thought we would have some coffee,” said Rollo.

“That’s right,” said Mr. George.  “I like coffee dinners.  What else have you got?”

“We have got some Loch Fine herring, and some mutton chops,” said Rollo.

“Yes, sir,” said Waldron.  “You see the Loch Fine herrings are very famous, and we thought you would like to know how they taste.”

By this time the waiter had removed the covers, and the party commenced their dinner.  The fire, which was near them, was very pleasant, for although it was June the weather was damp and cold.

In the course of the dinner the boys introduced again the subject of going down the Clyde the next day.

“The boat goes from the Broomielaw,” said Waldron.

“The Broomielaw,” repeated Mr. George; “what is the Broomielaw?”

“Why, it is the harbor and pier,” said Waldron.  “It is below the lowest bridge.  All the boats that go down the river go from the Broomielaw.  They go almost every hour.  We can go down by a boat and see the river, and then we can come up by the railroad.  That will be just as cheap, if we take a second class car.”

“Well, now,” said Mr. George, “I have concluded that I should not be willing to have you make this excursion except on two conditions; and they are such hard ones that I do not believe you would accept them.  You would rather not go at all than go on such hard conditions.”

“What are the conditions?” asked Rollo.

“I don’t believe you will accept them,” said Mr. George.

“But let us hear what they are,” said Waldron.  “Perhaps we should accept them.”

“The first is,” said Mr. George, “that when you get home you must go to your room, and write me an account of what you see on the excursion.  Each of you must write a separate account.”

“That we will do,” said Rollo.  “I should like to do that.  Wouldn’t you, Waldron?”

Waldron seemed to hesitate.  Though he was a very active-minded and intelligent boy in respect to what he saw and heard, he was somewhat backward in respect to knowledge of books and skill in writing.  Finally, he said that he should be willing to tell Mr. George what he saw, but he did not think that he could write it.

“That is just as I supposed,” said Mr. George.  “I did not think you would accept my conditions.”

“Well, sir, I will,” said Waldron.  “I will write it as well as I can.  And what is the other condition?”

“That you shall write down, at the end of your account, the most careless thing that you see Rollo do, all the time that you are gone,” said Mr. George, “and that Rollo shall write down the most careless thing he sees you do.”

“But suppose we don’t do any careless things at all,” said Rollo.

“Then,” said Mr. George, “you must write down what comes the nearest to being a careless thing.  And neither of you must know what the other writes until you have shown the papers to me.”

After some hesitation the boys agreed to both these terms, and so it was decided that they were to go down the river.  The steamer which they were to take was to sail at nine o’clock, and so they ordered breakfast at eight.  Mr. George said that he would go down with them in the morning to the Broomielaw, and see them sail.