Near it was a pail of water and a piece of yellow bar soap, and from the eaves hung a hoary blue woolen shirt, significantly -- but this latter was the station-keeper's private towel, and only two persons in all the party might venture to use it--the stage-driver and the conductor.

The latter would not, from a sense of decency; the former would not, because did not choose to encourage the advances of a station-keeper.

We had towels--in the valise; they might as well have been in Sodom and Gomorrah.

We (and the conductor) used our handkerchiefs, and the driver his pantaloons and sleeves.

By the door, inside, was fastened a small old-fashioned looking-glass frame, with two little fragments of the original mirror lodged down in one corner of it.
This arrangement afforded a pleasant double-barreled portrait of you when you looked into it, with one half of your head set up a couple of inches above the other half.