Devils Lake inter-ocean. (Devils Lake, Ramsey Co., Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1905, 1885-07-11
A WICKED JOKE.

~ wonder what is the trouble be-
tween Pufer and Gambol 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 writesp Someone told him once
that he wrote a diStingue hand. and it
set him up so that he o writes worse
than ever. Well, that happens to be
his sensitive point. He pridcs himself
on it. Gambol has a weak poiut. 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 a tirst-rate fellow,
though. Abouth a month ago, GAM
Dol asked Sloan to introduce him to
Pufer. Now, Sloan can't help playing
a practical joke any more than he can
live without eating. III arrange that
for tomorrow answered Sloan; but
you had better take a 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 loon tomorrow
"a few minutes later Sloan was
seated in the editorial rooms of the
Leader.
i want to bring a friend up here to
meet you Tomorrow he remarked to
Putfer.
"'Glad to meet any friend of
yours responded the editor.
He is a 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 q
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 Putfer's to Gam
Dol, and vice versa. Both men smiled
at each other encouragingly, and, pro-
ducing pads of paper big enough to
write a presidents message on, sat
down beside the editorial desk.
81 am glad to meet you,' wrote
Putfer on his pad.
"Gambol took be scrawl n 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, aud a light of in
lelligence broke upon his c~ountcnance.
Taxing up his pencil, he wrote:
81 am exceedingly sorry to hear it.
Did you ever try Simpsons e~xtractP'
and he handed it back to Putfer.
when Putler read this, his mouth
opened with establishment. He took
his pencil and wrote on the bottom OF
the sheet:
81 don't want any extract. l am
not sick. | simply said l was pleased
to meet you
Then he showed the paper over to
Gambol, aud 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 ut tina,
moment attentiveiy 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 a clue, and he wrote in reply:
"'Yes, thanks, don't care if l do;
but don't you think we had better &c
to lunch iirst?'
''Then he handed back the roll to the
editor. and smiled a smile of mingled
| dissatisfaction and relief.
when Putfcr saw the answer his
| disgust rose beyond his control. He
rose up in his chair, took the paper,
and handed it to Sloan.
See here, Sloan!' he shouted, see
what this grandson of a lunatic has
w:!.t"H. This cross-eycd 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, OF deau, OF an!thlnS, ano
don't want to write any more; and the
next time you bring a deaf and dumb
idiot up here to see me just let me
know, and III run out of town for a
week or so.'
That's all right! yelled Gambol
as he danced around the table: that's
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 q
schoolboy to write for me. I'd
Say gasped Puffer, amt yol
dcaf?'
NO replied Gambol, 'ain't you?'
Then both men looked at eacl
other a minute and simultaneously ex
claimed: Where's Sloan?'
But Sloan was a wise man. He
was gone. "-Fuck.
4 New Dodge.