But on this particular occasion no mishap marred the splendor of the feat. Naturally enough that night, when the community loafers assembled at their favorite general store, the achievement of the afternoon was the main topic of the evening. The official liar held in as long as he could; and when he no longer could contain himself, he spoke up and said: “Wall, I hain’t denyin’ but what that there Swifty is consid’able of a diver—but I had a cousin onc’t that could a-beat him.” The official skeptic gave a scornful grunt. “Ah, hah!” he exclaimed, “I rather thought you’d be sayin’ somethin’ of that general nature before the evenin’ was over. Who, for instance, was this yere cousin of yourn?” “Wall, for instance,” said the liar, modestly, “he wan’t no one in especial and perticular, exceptin’ the champeen diver of the world—that’s all.” “And what did he ever do to justify his right to that there title?” demanded the skeptic. “Wall,” said the liar, “he done consid’able many things in the divin’ line, which was his speciality. I remember onc’t he made a bet of a hundred dollars, cash, that he could dive from Liverpool, England, to Noo York City.” The skeptic gave a groan of resignation. “I suppose,” he said, “that you’re goin’ to ask us to believe he won that there bet.” “No I hain’t,” stated the liar. “I hain’t a-goin’ to lie to you. That wuz the one bet in his hull life my cousin ever lost. He miscalculated and come up in Denver, Colorado!” § 7 And Worth the Money, Too! A noted lawyer down in Texas, who labored under the defects of having a high temper and of being deaf, was trying a case in a courtroom presided over by a younger man, for whom the older practitioner had a poor opinion. Presently in an argument over a motion there was a clash between the lawyer and the judge. The judge ordered the lawyer to sit down, and as the lawyer, being deaf, didn’t hear him and went on talking, the judge fined him $10. The lawyer leaned toward the clerk and cupped his hand behind his ear. “What did he say?” he inquired. “He fined you $10,” explained the clerk. “For what?” “For contempt of this court,” said the clerk. The lawyer shot a poisonous look toward the bench and reached a hand into his pocket. “I’ll pay it now,” he said. “It’s a just debt!” § 8 The Spirit of Seventy-six, with Improvements A New York East Sider met a friend on Third Avenue and told him he had quit the buttonhole-making trade. “I’m in the art business now,” he said, proudly—“such a fine business, too! Lots of money in it!” “What do you mean—art business?” demanded his friend. “Well,” explained the East Sider, “I go by auction sales, and I buy pictures cheap; then I sell ’em high. Yesterday I bought a picture for twenty-five dollars and to-day I sold it for fifty.” “What was the subject?” “It wasn’t no subject at all,” said the art collector—“it was a picture.”