The Scientific Adventures of Mr. Fosdick
The International Electro-Galvanic Undertaking Corporation
Mr. Fosdick had succeeded in lifting him out of the trough and had balanced him on one foot—a Winged Mercury of bright shining copper.
"Splendid!" he ejaculated and gazed at his handiwork admiringly.
Mr. Fosdick Interests an Old Victim in One of His New Inventions
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he first two envelopes contained only circulars. But from the third dropped a bright yellow slip of paper, and as Eben Stetzle, loafing in the tinshop during the noon hour, picked it up from the floor and handed it to Mr. Fosdick, he saw that it was a check signed by the Ajax Manufacturing Company and that it called for four hundred and twenty dollars in real money.
"Last month's royalties on my curling iron," carelessly explained the inventor.
He always spoke of the device as a curling-iron, although it was advertised and sold by the manufacturing company as a nut-cracker.
Mr. Stetzle sighed. "Gee, I wish I could get in on some thing like that. Running a chop mill is a mighty slow method of getting rich."
Dr. Fosdick, who we know is a friend of our readers, after his experiments with the "Seidlitzmobile" and the "Feline Electric Plant" takes a new departure and proposes to electroplate the dead in order to preserve them as beautiful statues for posterity. Although the author of this story is a comical genius, his idea is certainly a beautiful one but he gives it a very funny touch and the reader will find that for sustained interest and pure comedy, it is equal to the preceding stories which we have been fortunate enough to obtain.
The sight of the check removed the last trace of bitterness that had lingered in Eben’s heart since his unhappy experience with The Feline Light and Power Company.
"I should like to get in on the next good thing you get up," he continued, eyeing the check that protruded from Mr. Fosdick's waistcoat pocket. "But, of course, I'm not going in on any more electrified cats. The very sight of a cat makes me shudder even now."
Mr. Fosdick gazed at his friend pensively. "I have been thinking," he said, "of the organization of a company that will make 'Standard Oil' look like a penny savings bank."
Eben Stetzle drew in his breath with audible inquisitiveness. "What is it? What is it?" he demanded.
Mr. Fosdick smiled blandly. "Yes, what is it?" he mimicked,
