Life — September 27, 1883 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

LIFE “We have bought them for you on margin,” he ex- plained; your purchases average about twenty- eight and a half dollars per share. If you were to pay in full for them you would have to pay us about a hun- dred and seventy-five thousand dollars more.’ Agnus fell full length on the floor—annihilated. “Do you mean to tell me,” he gasped, “ that I owe you a hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars al- ready?” “No,” answered Shearum, helping him to rise, “you don't want to take up the stock, we'll carry it for you.” “Carry it where? Oh Heavens! what can I do?” Shearum said, “ You can sell it out if you wish.” “Sell it out!” shrieked Agnus. “Sell it out! and let the man be very particular not to leave any. Let him be extremely careful not to leave any of these detestable shares about. If he can 't sell them pass them off on somebody somehow. One hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars ! Mother of Washington !!”" “Don’t be uneasy, my dear friend,” said Shearum soothingly ; “let's see how it turns out.” Swiftly and noiselessly the reports came in. The stocks began to decline, but sales for Agnus’ account were made at the top prices of the flurry, Shearu:a did some figuring and said: “ Fatuus, you are in rare luck. pose you have made?” “ A confounded ass of myself,” aswered Angus. “ You clear about thirty-five thousand dollars; your stock was bought at an average of about twenty-eight and a half and sold out at an average of about thirty- three and three quarters. You make about thirty- five thousand dollars.” “Do you mean it?” said Agnus, “So much that I will give you a cheque for it as soon as the account can be made up.” “T think I will go up town,” said our daring specu- lator; it has n't tired me at all, but I'll go home and lie down. These intricate combinations where a chap puts his whole brain-force into a speculation are really rough on the nerves. Ill look in to-morrow. I advise your being very careful, Shearum, and you 'd better not operate until I come down again. These transac- tions want a calm head and great executive ability. Ta-ta!” What do you sup- 149 RONDEAU. M4 chére amie, I oft-times rue That e’er I saw your eyes of blue, So archly do they look askance ; They pierce my heart as with a lance, And I am fain compelled to woo ; And then your lips of ruby hue, As fresh and sweet as mountain dew, Might well an anchorite entrance, Ma chére amie. I would that I could say adieu To all my follies, and to you ; How gladly then I'd fly your glance, And lips whose smiling makes me dance To all your whims, and they ’re not few, Ma chére amie. Wn. J. Duccert. RECIPES FOR POPULAR SERMONS. VIL. FOR A PRESBYTERIAN SERMON AT THE END OF VACATION, ALA FIFTH AVENUE. Text, Jer. VILI, 20. The summer is ended and we are not saved.” Ba down your salvation till it begins to fall apart. Set it aside till it is quite liberally cool; it may then be made more pleasant to the guests by little glittering Universalist hopes stuck in at intervals. Then stir gently a few affectionate greetings, and when this comes to a froth, add a heaping table spoonful of the necessity for thankfulness and the incentive to good works, with a few hints of the studious way in which you have spent your own vacation and place this around the salvation. Serve with hearty hand- shakes around the edges of the dish. VI. FOR A PATRIOTIC SERMON A LA SAINT OF PLYMOUTH. EAs a text that has “freedom” in it. Surround this with as many captious ‘criticisms of foreign countries as are available (the newspapers will generally furnish a sufficient supply, if not, read up Robinson’s congressional speeches). Stir this rapidly over an in- tense heat, throwing in, at intervals, statistics of the wheat crop, allusions to the increasing prosperity of the South, political tirades of a Civil Service Reform ten- dency, admiring references to the Puritans and to any historical or noteworthy c haracteristics of your own city. When the whole is at boiling point, sprinkle in a little of the Revolution, about twice as much of the Rebellion, and some classical quotations in the original tongues. Then warm over some mpral platitudes, seasoned with fervid rhetoric. When the whole is sufficiently cooked (this may be discovered by sticking into it a straw of common sense; if nothing adheres to the straw, it is done) heat your plates over a register of any creed, and be sure the dish is served smoking hot. comicbooks.com