“Yes, sir.”
“Where?”
“On the front and side doors, of course.”
“On the doors—of course—who in Halifax ordered them on the doors of the house? I wanted them strips for the barn doors!”
“You did?”
“Certainly I did. Do you suppose I want draughts of air sweeping in on my poor horses this kind o’ weather?”
[It’s a Telephone.]
A well-to-do but unsophisticated back-woodsman was in the city lately, attending the Fat Stock Show, and brought along his wife and daughters to see the sights and do some shopping. Among other places they visited was Mandel’s new store, and after wandering around the first floor for a while the party came to a stop near the elevators.
One of the daughters was first to discover the cars moving silently up and down, receiving and discharging their cargoes of passengers. She jerked her father’s coat sleeve to direct his attention to the phenomenon, and in a tone that was audible to the clerks in the neighborhood asked: