“As I am also an author,” said Mark, “it would appear that I am again entitled to 50 per cent discount.”
Again the clerk bowed.
“And as a personal friend of the proprietor,” he modestly continued, “I presume that you will allow me the usual 25 per cent. discount.”
Another bow from the salesman.
“Well,” drawled the unblushing humorist, “under these conditions I think I may as well take the book. What’s the tax?”
The clerk took out his pencil and figured industriously. Then he said with the greatest obsequiousness:
“As near as I can calculate we owe you the book and about 37-1/2 cents.”
Clyde Fitch tells a new story of Whistler. The artist was in Paris at the time of the coronation of King Edward, and at a reception one evening a duchess said to him: “I believe you know King Edward, Mr. Whistler.”