The Gentleman at the End of the Long Table.—Trade is so dull now that the anecdote market is overstocked. The bon-mot and jest mills are rolling up their products; but middlemen are cautious, and consumers wary. The stock of last year’s “chestnuts”[30] is being worked off; and I have one, a little shop-worn, which I have dusted for the occasion:—
The Fable of the Inquisitive old Broker and the Queer Bundle.
An inquisitive old broker noticed a queer bundle upon the lap of a man sitting opposite him in the horse-car. He looked at the bundle, in wonder as to what it might contain, for some minutes; finally, overmastered by curiosity, he inquired:—
“Excuse me, sir; but would you mind telling me what is in that extraordinary bundle?”
“Certainly; a mongoose,” replied the man, who was reading “Don’t,” and learning how to be a real, true gentleman.
“Ah, indeed!” ejaculated the broker, with unslacked curiosity.... “But what is a mongoose, pray?”
“Something to kill snakes with.”
“But why do you wish to kill snakes with a mongoose?” asked the broker.
“My brother has the delirum tremens and sees snakes all the time. I am going to fix ‘em.”
“But, my dear sir, the snakes which your brother sees in his delirium are not real snakes, but the figments of his diseased imagination,—not real snakes, sir!”