In a few days a letter was received from the applicant, in which he very indignantly said that his father had fought for liberty in the second war for independence, and he should like to have the name of the scoundrel who brought the charge of proximity or anything else wrong against him.
“There,” said G., “did I not say so?”
G. carried his improvements so far that Mr. Berry, the Postmaster-General, said to him: “I don’t want you any longer; you know too much.”
Poor G. went out, but his old friend got him another place.
This time G.‘s ideas underwent a change. He was one day very busy writing, when a stranger called in and asked him where the Patent Office was.
“I don’t know,” said G.
“Can you tell me where the Treasury Department is?” said the stranger.
“No,” said G.
“Nor the President’s house?”
“No.”