Sir: The enclosed is in payment for your work. No receipt is necessary.
Yours truly,
B. VICTOR CARVER.
The “enclosed” was a five-dollar bill.
I stood staring at the note. Then I began to laugh.
“What's the joke?” asked Dorinda, who had not taken her eyes from my face.
“This,” said I, handing her the money. She looked at it in astonishment.
“Um-hm,” she said, drily. “Well, I—well, a five-dollar bill may be a joke to you, but I ain't familiar enough with one to laugh at it. You don't laugh as if 'twas awful funny, either. Who's the joke on?”
“It's on me, just now.
“Um-hm. I'd be willin' to be joked ten times a day, at that price. And I'd undertake to laugh heartier than you're doin', too. What's it for? the money, I mean.”