An Accommodating Boss.
A gang of men were at work on a city street, when a slight, beardless youth laid down his pick, and approaching the foreman, said to him:
"Can I take a fit, sir?"
"Take what?" asked the foreman.
"A fit—I feel one coming on," replied the young man, without emotion.
"Why, certainly," said the foreman.
So the young man walked over to a bit of grass under a leafy tree—it was a new street in the suburbs—and had a fit.
Then he went and washed his face, came back to his place in the line, took up his pick and struck into work. After the day's work was over the young man said to the foreman: "You don't mind my having fits?"
"No—I guess not if you do a fair day's work."
"Well, you see I used to work for a butcher an' he wouldn't let me take fits—said it interfered with business—an' I thought you might feel the same way about it."
And the young man works hard with pick and shovel and takes a fit once in a while as you or I might take a drink of water.
—Pittsburgh Dispatch.