“And the French?”
“His mother was a French Canadian. That’s where he gets his French—and his laziness.”
Mr. Copernicus made one last struggle.
“But he has been most industrious and faithful in my employ.”
“What is he?”
“My—my night-watchman.”
“Mr. Copernicus,” inquired Mr. Mitts, “have you a watchman’s clock in your building?”
“No, sir,” said Mr. Copernicus, indignantly. “I have none of those degrading new-fangled machines. I prefer to trust my employees.”
“Then Dudley Chester is asleep in your store at this minute.”
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