He had sat at the same table in the same restaurant for years--more
years than he cared to count. He was not as young as be used to be.
Always when he could he sat on the comfortable sofa-like seat on the
wall side of the table. When that was fully occupied he sat on the
other side on an ordinary upright chair, in which he could not lounge
at ease.
He sat there now discontentedly, keeping a watchful eye for vacancies
in the opposite party.
Half-way through his meal a vacancy occurred. He pushed his plate
across the table and went round, sinking with a sigh into the
cushioned seat.
The departing customer had left the usual gratuity under the saucer
of his coffee-cup. In a minute or two the waitress would collect the
cup and saucer and the coins.
But the waitress was busy. The room was full and there was the usual
deficient service.
He finished eating, lighted a cigarette and called for a cup of
coffee. It was then, I think, the thought came to him.
The other man's cup, saucer and money were still there.
His hand fluttered uncertainly over the cloth among the crockery.
There seemed to be nobody looking. His fingers slid under the other
man's saucer and in a moment the money was under his own.
He rose, took his hat and bill and went.
We left soon after.
"How mean!" said my wife. "Did you see? He made the other man's tip
do. Even a woman wouldn't have done that."
It seemed severe, I thought, but that is what she said.
* * * * *
"The rats were chased out of camp and their skins tanned and
made into dainty purses and handbags."--_Manchester Guardian_.
The rats having in their hurry left their skins behind them.
* * * * *
"The front door of the Lord Mayor's coachman opens on to a
long, narrow staircase."--_Weekly Dispatch_.
Very interesting, no doubt; but the general public would have
preferred to learn something about his bow-window.
* * * * *