“Why do you do that, old dear?” asked the astonished host.
“Because,” said the Scotchman, “when I was a verra young man, back in Edinburgh in the year 1862, I saw one of them spilled.”
§ 266 In the Very Lap of Comfort
An aged couple from the East Side were visiting their married daughter in Brooklyn. One afternoon on a sight-seeing stroll they drifted into a near-by cemetery.
Presently, a huge marble mausoleum caught their eye. They halted before it in admiration.
“Ain’t that peautiful!” said the old man. “I pet you, Esther, that cost fully dwenty thousand dollars. Who is buried there, I wonder?”
His wife, whose eyesight was better than his, spelled out the name carved over the entrance to the tomb.
“It says: ‘August Kohn.’ ”
“August Kohn, huh?—so! Then it must be the millionaire silk-goods importer vot’s puried there.” He wagged his beard in tribute. “Vell, them rich peoples certainly do live vell.”