Doggonit
A farmer friend of mine was standing in the road with a gun tucked under his arm and an old dog at his side. He was directly in the path of a motor car. The chauffeur sounded his horn, but the dog did not move—until he was struck. After that he did not move.
The automobile stopped and one of the men got out and came forward. He had once paid a farmer $10 for killing a calf that belonged to another farmer. This time he was wary.
“Was that your dog?”
“Yes.”
“You own him?”
“Yes.”
“Looks as if we’d killed him.”
“Certainly looks so.”
“Very valuable dog?”
“Well, not so very.”
“Will $5 satisfy you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, here you are.” He handed a $5 bill to the man with the gun, and said pleasantly, “I’m sorry to have broken up your hunt.”
“I wasn’t going hunting,” replied the other as he pocketed the bill.
“Not going hunting? Then what were you doing with the dog and the gun?”
“Going down to the river to shoot the dog.”
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Too many women look upon a marriage certificate as a license to operate a holdup game.
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