Roscommon spent more time behind his bar than his grocer's counter.

Add to this the fact that a long shed-like extension or wing bore the legend, "Cosmopolitan Hotel, Board or Lodging by the Day or Week.

M.Roscommon," and you got an idea of the variety of the proprietor's functions.

The "hotel," however, was more directly under the charge of Mrs.Roscommon, a lady of thirty years, strong, truculent, and good-hearted.
Mr.Roscommon had early adopted the theory that most of his customers were insane, and were to be alternately bullied or placated, as the case might be.

Nothing that occurred, no extravagance of speech nor act, ever ruffled his equilibrium, which was as dogged and stubborn as it was outwardly calm.