§ 189 The Made-in-England Substitute
An American actor with a reputation for wit went to a luncheon given by a famous actress to several members of her supporting company. Among the guests of honor was an English leading man, who rather fancied himself—and showed it. He monopolized the conversation, speaking copiously and feelingly of himself, his personality and his merits.
From his place across the table the American eyed him with an enhancing disfavor. At length he turned to the man sitting next him on the right.
“Our British friend over there is by way of being a regular ass, isn’t he?” he asked in a whisper.
“Oh I’d hardly go so far as to say that,” answered his neighbor.
“Well, he’ll do, won’t he, till one comes?” said the American.
§ 190 Practically Destitute
Tilted back in his chair on the boatstore porch overlooking the river sat Cap’n Joe Fowler, as typical a Kentuckian as the fag end of the last century produced. A packet bound from Cincinnati to New Orleans, landed. Up the steep slope of the wharf came a tourist lady from up North somewhere. In the crook of her arm this lady bore the first Mexican hairless dog Cap’n Joe had ever seen. The animal was no larger than a full grown rat; in fact it rather resembled a rat. It seemed a miserable, naked, sickly little thing which shivered even though the air was balmy and flinched with vague uneasiness at every sound.
As the lady drew close Cap’n Joe stood up and made a low bow to her.
“I beg your pardon, madam,” he said in his best company drawl, “but might a total stranger so far intrude upon you as to ask you a question?”