The late Horace Leland, who for many years kept the Leland Hotel at
Springfield, Ill., was an exceedingly generous man and an especial lover
of children. One day he and Judge A. C. Matthews, then Speaker of the
Illinois House of Representatives, and afterward the First Controller of
the Treasury, were walking out together when they met a man with a
cluster of toy balloons. School was just out and hundreds of boys and
girls came pouring from a building near at hand and formed in groups
around the balloon man.
"Hold on, Ace," said Mr. Leland, "there's a joyous sight," and the two
stopped and watched the children gaze longingly at the balloons.
"I can make some of them happy, anyway," said Mr. Leland, and he asked
the man the price of the balloons.
"Fi' cent apiece."
"How much for the lot?" asked the philanthropist.
The man counted them over. There were twenty-one.
"One dol' for de lot."
Mr. Leland took them all and distributed them among the children with as
much fairness as possible, and away the little codgers ran with them.
Then Mr. Leland put his hand in his pocket and said:
"By George, Ace, I ain't got a cent. Lend me a dollar."
"Oh, no," said Judge Matthews, seriously; "you can't play philanthropist
at my expense. Not much."
"Well, my man," said Mr. Leland, "I guess you'll have to call at my
hotel for your money."
"No, sir," said the man, "you give me my money or you give me back my
balloons."
"But don't you see I can do neither? Come to the Leland House and ask
for Mr. Leland, and I will pay you."
"No, sir," persisted the man, "you pay me my money or give me back my
balloons. I haf seen dat hotel trick before."
"Come, Ace," said Mr. Leland, from the depth of his troubled soul, "give
me a dollar."
"Not a cent," said the Judge. "I wouldn't trust you with a dime."
"See," said the man, "your own friend no will trust you. You give me my
money or I will call de policeman."
Just then there happened along an old beggar woman who had lived upon
the bounty of the good people of Springfield for many a year. She
stopped and heard enough of the conversation to know what it was about.
"Hould on, Misther Layland," said she, "if yer foine frind there won't
lave ye the loan av a dollar, begorra O'im the frind that will," and as
she lectured Judge Matthews for the "stingiest ould thing out o' jail,"
she unrolled the money from a dirty rag and gave it to the
philanthropist.
Judge Matthews says he never tried to play just that kind of a joke on
Horace Leland again.