“Grandfather’s remorseful friend’s agent!” said Thomas. “Wonder what’s on his conscience now.”
“A thousand thunders!” said Gaston, or Mike. “I have no other match.”
“Young man,” said old Jacob, severely, “how about that parlor maid you were engaged to?”
A couple of years afterward old Jacob went into the office of his private secretary.
“The Amalgamated Missionary Society solicits a contribution of $30,000 toward the conversion of the Koreans,” said the secretary.
“Pass ’em up,” said Jacob.
“The University of Plumville writes that its yearly endowment fund of $50,000 that you bestowed upon it is past due.”
“Tell ’em it’s been cut out.”
“The Scientific Society of Clam Cove, Long Island, asks for $10,000 to buy alcohol to preserve specimens.”
“Waste basket.”
“The Society for Providing Healthful Recreation for Working Girls wants $20,000 from you to lay out a golf course.”
“Tell ’em to see an undertaker.
“Cut ’em all out,” went on Jacob. “I’ve quit being a good thing. I need every dollar I can scrape or save. I want you to write to the directors of every company that I’m interested in and recommend a 10 per cent.
