A cute old black fellow named Bill who had frequently been
entrusted with such notes and had borne away goods presented a scrap of
paper innocent of writing at the store.
"What? This from Tom?" asked the storekeeper naming one of his customers
while he ran his eye over the paper.
"Yowi! Tom bin make 'em."
"What this fella talk?"
"That fella talk plour; sugar, tea; two stick Derby," and, as a
brilliant after thought--"bottle rum!"
"All right, by and bye," remarked the storekeeper.
The old man waited, and when it at last dawned upon him that his dodge
for the pledging of Tom's credit had failed, stole away, convinced no
doubt that there was some magic in the making of letters that he did not
quite comprehend.
THE BIG WORD
A tracker, known as Billy Williams--who had passed out of the police
service after many years of duty during which he had added largely to
his burden of original sin and knowledge of English--stole a valuable
diamond ring from the landlord of an hotel. Detected, and promptly
brought before two justices of the peace, Billy pleaded guilty, and was
sentenced to three months' imprisonment.
While escorting him to the lockup, the officer in charge remarked--
"Well, Billy, you lucky fella.
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