"Ass-eroid!" he shouted.
"Don't get excited, Judson," commented Bentham patronizingly.
"You make me tired!" retorted his agricultural friend. "What difference does it make what it is, if it's been put out of business?"
"What do you mean?" cried Bentham. "Has anything unusual occurred?"
"Haven't you seen the papers?" inquired Judson. "Huh! If you're so blamed slow, lemme—I mean, let me—read it to you."
"Sure!" nodded Bentham. "Another sherry and bitters—and another mint julep," he added to the bartender, after a moment's reflection.
"Listen here," began Judson, elevating a newspaper which had been lying flat on the bar: "'Extry'! Collision between ass—ass—what d'you call it?"
Tassifer grabbed the paper quickly out of his hand.
"As-ter-oid," he articulated snappishly. "Let me see it. I can read."
He read: