One day a gentleman stopped at the hotel selling wire stove-pipe brackets. They were so constructed as to fasten around the pipe of the cook-stove, and make a very convenient shelf to set the cooking utensils on.
The Doctor took a particular liking to the man selling them, and lost no opportunity to speak a good word for the invention. One day he ventured the assertion that he could sell six dozen a day to the housekeepers of that town. I suggested that he start out at once.
He was insulted, and said he was in other business. I said a poor excuse was better than none and offered to wager the price of a new hat that he couldn't sell one in a week. He then offered to bet the cigars for the crowd that he could sell one to his washerwoman.
"Yes," I replied, "I suppose she would be glad to take cats and dogs for what you owe her."
That settled it, and he raked me right and left. He said I needn't judge him from my shirtless experience at Fort Wayne (which I had related to him), and that he always paid his wash bill. He then reminded me that only for him and his money a few weeks before, I would have gone without laundered shirts many a day.
"Yes," said I, "and only for me where would you be eating now?"
"Great ——!" he ejaculated. "You cussed, impudent Arab! Who got you this job?"
"You did," I replied; "but only for your beautiful figure and winning ways catching the eye of the land——"
"Shut up! shut up!" he yelled. "Don't you open your infernal head again."
Then I apologized, and said: