“I said, bring me an owl! If you pretend to talk English you ought to understand that.”
“Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. How would you please to have the nowl?”
“Never you mind. You go and bring me an owl, and don’t be too long about it.”
The waiter was gone some little time, and, then returning, said, “I am very sorry, sir, but we cannot give you a nowl to-night. The barkeeper is out of one of the materials for making nowls. But I can bring you a very nice cocktail.”
“Never mind,” replied the American. “That’ll do. You can go now.”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said one of the three anatomizers of the French people, speaking with that air of addressing a vast popular assemblage which is so characteristic of dignified American conversationalists. “Would you do me the favor to tell me and these gentlemen why you ordered an owl?”
“I don’t mind telling you,” was the answer, “but I can’t very well do it without telling you a story first.”
“All right, Colonel. Give us the story, by all means.”
The elderly American leaned back in his chair searching for inspiration with his gaze fixed on the chandelier. He rolled his cigar lightly from one corner of his mouth to the other and back again, and presently began: