The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1885-07-09
nlanitomof pilot.
THURSDAY, JULY 9, 1885.
A WICKED JOKE.

| tween Puffer and GamDol and Sloan.
| They hate him like poison" remarked
the judge.
Haven't you heard?" inquired the
major.
mo; what is it?"
You know what a terrible hand
| Puffer writes? Someone told him once
| that he wrote a dtstiague hand. and it
| set him up so that he now writes worse
than ever. Well, that happens to be
| his sensitive Soint. He prides himself
| on it. Gambol has weak point, too
| his eyes. He can't help being cross
/ eyed, but it worries him all the same.
| When he goes to the theater he sits
with his back to the stage to see the
performance. He is first-rate fellow,
| though Abouth a month ago, Gam
| Dol asked Sloan to introduce him to
Puffer. Now. Sloan can't help playing
a practical joke any more than he can
live without eating. I'll arrange that
| for tomorrow answered Sloan; but
| you had better take pad of paper and
| a pencil with you. He is deaf as a
post, poor fellow. He can't even hear
| the foreman swear at his copy. He is
| terribly sensitive about it, too. So
when you meet him just act as if you
knew all about it. I'll see you at his
| office at noon tomorrow
"a few minutes later Sloan was
seated in the editorial rooms of the
| Leader.
g 4 want to bring friend up here to
meet you tomorrow he remarked to
| Puffer
:" Glad to meet any friend of
| yours, responded the editor.
He is friend of yours, too, replied
| Sloan. He greatly admires your edi-
torials. There is one popularity about
| him, though.
What's that?'
He's deaf as a clam. He can't
| hear it thunder. He doesn't know it s
| raining until he misses his umbrella.
He is very touchy on that point, and
| you had better have some paper and a
pencil ready for him when he comes.
| and act as if you always knew he was
deaf 1t will make him feel easier
The next day at noon Sloan and his
visitor entered the Leader office. Puff
fer was waiting for them. Sloan took
their cards, and gave Puffer's to Gam
Dol. and vice versa. Both men smiled
| at each other encouragingly, and, pro-
ducing pads of paper big enough to
| write presidents message on, sat
| down beside the editorial desk.
L" 4 am glad to meet you,' wrote
Puffer on his pad.
''Gambol took the scrawl and looked
at it, first out OF one eye and then out
| of the other. A puzzled look came
over his face. Finally he turned the
| paper upside down, and a light of in
telligence broke upon his countenance.
Taking up his pencil, he wrote:
g 4 am exceedingly sorry to hear it.
Did you ever try Simpsons extract?'
and he handed it back to Puffer.
when Putfer read this, his mouth
| opened with establishment. He took
his pencil and wrote on the bottom of
the sheet:
% Il don't want any extract. 1 am
not sick. | simply said l was pleased
to meet you
Then he showed the paper over to
Gambol, and waited for a reply. Ii
Gambol was puzzled at the first COM
| munication, he was in reality stricken
dumb at the second. He glanced APP
| pealingly at Sloan, who was at that
moment attentively looking at a pict-
ure on the WALL with his handkerchief
in his mouth to smother his laughter.
Finally he struck what seemed to him
to be clue, and he wrote in reply:
| Yes, thanks, don't care if | do:
but don't you think we had better 90
to lunch iirste'
''Then he handed back the roll to the
| oIitpr nd snilaI cp,i1a of min Il
self-satisfaction and relief.
| when Putfer saw the answer his
disgust rose beyond his control. He
rose up in his chair, took the paper,
and handed it to Sloan
I" See here. Sloann he shouted, see
what this grandson OF a lunatic has
written. This cross-eyed fool evident
ly doesn't understand his own Ian.
guage. What in Tophet did you want
to bring such a strabismic ass up to
this Office to meet me for? Here take
this paper and write to him that l am
sick to-day, or dead, or anything, and
don't want to write any more; and the
next time you bring deaf and dumb
idiot up here to see me just let me
know, and I'll run out of town for a
! week or So
"'T That's all right yelled Gambol,
as he danced around the table: that
all right, but if l wrote a hand like
yours I'd print my letters. I'd spell
them out on my fingers. I'd hire a
schoolboy to write for me- I'd
Say gasped Putfer, amt you
deaf?'
No replied Gambol, amt you3'
Then both men looked at each
other minute and simultaneously ex-
claimed: Where's Sloan?'
''Rut Sloan was wise man. He
| was uope ~ p1eL