COLLOQUY.
AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT MATTER.
Scene.—An office with a desk or table on which are an inkstand, a pile of ledgers and some extra sheets of paper. Mr. Pinchem, with gray wig and whiskers and spectacles sits in his office busily engaged in figuring up his accounts. He does not look up from his paper, but keeps on figuring while his clerk enters and takes a seat near the table in such a position as to both face the audience.
Clerk.
Mr. Pinchem, I—I—
Mr. Pinchem. Have you got those goods off for Kalamazoo?
Clerk. Yes, sir, they are off. Mr. Pinchem, I—
Mr. P. And about that order for starch?
Clerk. That has been attended to, sir. Mr. Pinchem—
Mr. P. And that invoice of tea?
Clerk. That’s all right, sir. Mr. Pinchem, I have—
Mr. P. And that cargo of sugar?
Clerk. Taken care of as you directed, sir. Mr. Pinchem, I have long—
Mr. P. What about Bush & Bell’s consignment?
Clerk. Received in good order, sir. Mr. Pinchem, I have long wanted—
Mr. P. And that shipment to Buffalo?
Clerk. All right, sir. Mr. Pinchem, I have long wanted to speak to you—
Mr. P. Ah! speak to me? Why, I thought you spoke to me fifty times a day.
Clerk. Yes, sir, I know, but this is a private matter.
Mr. P. Private? Oh! Ah! Wait till I see how much we made on the last ten thousand pounds of soap—Six times four are twenty-four; six times two are twelve and two to carry make fourteen; six times nought are nothing and one to carry makes one; six times five are thirty; seven times four—ah! well go ahead, I’ll finish this afterwards.
Clerk. Mr. Pinchem, I have been with you ten long years.—
Mr. P. Ten, eh! Long years, eh! any longer than any others years? Go ahead.
Clerk. And I have always tried to do my duty.
Mr. P. Have, eh? Go on.
Clerk. And I now make bold—
Mr. P. Hold on! What is there bold about it? But never mind, I’ll hear you out.
Clerk. Mr. Pinchem I want to ask—ask—I want to ask—
Mr. P. Well, why don’t you ask, then? I don’t see why you don’t ask if you want to.
Clerk. Mr. Pinchem I want to ask you for—for—
Mr. P. You want to ask me for the hand of my daughter. Ah! why didn’t you speak right out? She’s yours, my boy, take her and be happy. You might have had her two years ago if you had mentioned it. Go along, now, I’m busy. Seven times six are forty-two, seven times five are thirty-five and four are thirty-nine, seven times eight—
Clerk. Mr. Pinchem—
Mr. P. What! You here yet? Well, what is it?
Clerk. I want to ask you for—
Mr. P. Didn’t I give her to you, you rascal!
Clerk. Yes, but what I wanted to ask you for was not the hand of your daughter, but a raise of salary.
Mr. P. Oh! that was it, eh? Well, sir, that is an entirely different matter, and it requires time for serious thought and earnest deliberation. Return to your work. I’ll think about it, and some time next fall I’ll see about giving you a raise of a dollar or so a week. Seven times eight are fifty-six and three are fifty-nine—