Officers have a right to ask questions in the performance of their duty,
but there are occasions when it seems as if they might curtail or forego
the privilege. Not long ago an Irishman whose hand had been badly
mangled in an accident entered the Boston City Hospital relief station
in a great hurry. He stepped up to the man in charge and inquired:
"Is this the relief station, sor?"
"Yes. What is your name?"
"Patrick O'Connor, sor."
"Are you married?" questioned the officer.
"Yis, sor, but is this the relief station?" He was nursing his hand in
agony.
"Of course it is. How many children have you?"
"Eight, sor. But sure, this is the relief station?"
"Yes, it is," replied the officer, a little angry at the man's
persistence.
"Well," said Patrick, "sure, an' I was beginning to think that it might
be the pumping station."
The sages say, Dame Truth delights to dwell
(Strange Mansion!) in the bottom of a well:
Questions are then the Windlass and the rope
That pull the grave old Gentlewoman up.
--_John Wolcott_.
_See also_ Curiosity.