“Say,” he demanded with terrific sarcasm, “wot kind of a place do you think I’m runnin’ here, anyway?”
The stranger looked up from his repast:
“Vell,” he said calmly, “since you ask me, I got to dell you—der service here iss rotten! Ulso, for why ain’t der orchestra playing?”
§ 305 For Business, Not Pleasure
The newly organized Ku Klux Klan, having had its first parade, was now in session behind locked doors for the purpose of conferring the secret work upon a batch of new members. A stranger tried to shove his way into the hall. The keeper of the outer portals shooed him away. Presently the persistent intruder returned.
“Say, look here,” said the warden, “you don’t belong in here.” He took a closer look at the stranger. “I’m sure of it. Ain’t you Jewish?”
“Shure, I’m Jewish,” answered the other, with an ingratiating smile.
“Well, don’t you know the Ku Klux Klan don’t let no Jews join it?”
“I don’t vant to join.”
“Well, what do you want then?”