Small investors clamored to get their money down, and big capitalists fought for control of the invention that promised such great things. Within a few weeks Bell, who couldn't give a half interest in his invention to Don Cameron, and who couldn't raise a ten-thousand-dollar loan from Depew, was in a position to turn millions of money away, and there was no more begging for a few dollars to give the telephone a try-out.
GRAVE, GAY, AND EPIGRAMMATIC.
THE VILLAGE SMITHY.
By Horace Seymour Keller.
No more the roan and chestnut, the pie-bald and the gray
Pound their iron hoofs upon the smithy's floor;
No more the gig and buggy, the buckboard and coupé
Stand broken down and helpless at the door.
He'll pump you full of ether with an auto sorter laugh,
He's fixtures ready-made to mend the fake.
If your tire has collapsed he'll swell it for a half,
With perhaps another dollar for a break.
No more he talks of "hoss" as he stands upon the green
And waits the auto trav'ler on his way.
He's an artist now in wind, and he's happy and serene,
For he's pumping, pumping dollars all the day.
NOT A LENDER.
"Your honor," said a lawyer to the judge, "every man who knows me, knows that I am incapable of lending my aid to a mean cause."