“I kinder likes dis sort ob climack!” said Old Si, as he come into the
office last evening.
“In what way?”
“Well, I likes to be ’round whar yer kin hang up yer obercoat soon ez
yer buys it an’ set ’round in yur shurt-sleebes jest ez well on New
Year ez yer kin on de Foth o’ July!”
“That is pleasant.”
“Yes, sah, an’ dat’s what meks me say what I do. Dar’s plenty ob helth
down heah if you jess knows how to fin’ it. De only place whar you
kant fin’ it is in er allygator’s mouf!”
“Then your advice is that people should come to Florida, but beware of
the alligator?”
“Dat’s hit! I ain’t got no use for ’er allygator hits to much like er
pollytishun--got mo’ mouf dan vittals an’ mo’ hide dan honisty!”
And with this epigram the old man bowed himself out of the sanctum.