Mr. Slingsby, our assessor and tax-collector, holds on too. He is another model member of our civil service. The principal characteristic of Mr. Slingsby is enthusiasm. He has an idea that whenever a man gets anything new it ought to be taxed, and he is always on hand to perform the service. I had about fifteen feet added to one of my chimneys last spring; and when it was done, Slingsby called and assessed it, under the head of "improved real estate," at eighty dollars, and collected two per cent. on it. A few days later, while I was standing by the fence, Slingsby came up and said,
"Beautiful dog you have there."
"Yes; it's a setter."
"Indeed! A setter, hey? The tax on setters is two dollars. I'll collect it now, while I have it on my mind."
I settled the obligation, and the next day Slingsby came around again.
He opened the conversation with the remark,
"Billy Jones told me down at the grocery-store that your terrier had had pups."
"Yes."
"A large litter?"
"Four."
"Indeed! Less see: tax is two dollars; four times two is eight—yes, eight dollars tax, please. And hurry up, too, if you can, for they have a new batch of kittens over at Baldwin's, and I want to ketch old Baldwin before he goes out. By the way, when did you put that weathercock on your stable?"