Sliding up to the box office I heard him demand one of the best seats and laid down a five-dollar bill. A coupon and three dollars was handed to him. When he asked what the ticket cost and was told that it was two dollars, it was evident that he expected to pay half a dollar at most.
"Two dollars to see the forty thieves, eh?" he repeated.
"Yes, sir," said the box-office man.
"Well, keep your durned seat," exclaimed the man from Jersey. "I don't think I care to see the other thirty-nine."
Then there's the elevator boy in our apartment house, who was born and brought up in the city.
He had a little flag pinned on his coat, and I was joking him on his patriotism.
"What have you ever done for your country, Bill?" I asked.
Would you believe it, that urchin had the nerve to look me wickedly in the eye and say: