Tony produced a blank form and began filling it out. He dwelt at length in the preamble over the great superiority of Weinhard's beer over every known competitor, and in each sentence would have something to say about the "Celebrated Weinhard's lager beer." He incorporated in the lease a promise from the Swede that he never would drink, or allow any of his friends to drink any beverage, excepting the world famous Weinhard's beer. Never before or since has there been such an elaborate lease made up and the funny part is that the whole matter was a huge joke. A month elapsed and Mr. Weinhard noticed his new customer. He had been seeking, without avail, the Swede's patronage, but here he was now, giving good orders without any solicitation. Mr. Weinhard determined to ascertain the reason for this change of heart. The Swede informed him that he was obliged to patronize him in order to retain his lease. "Would you mind letting me see that lease?" queried Mr. Weinhard. There being no objections the lease was sent to him for his perusal. No one will ever be able to tell what passed through the brewer's mind as he read the uncommon document, but he went to the telephone and called up Nicolai Brothers. "I want to speak to Mr. Tony Neppach." "That's me," said the merry Tony. "This is Henry Weinhard and I am putting up a building on the corner of Fourth and Alder Streets and I want to tell you that you can have all the mill work there, without price. Goodbye," and he hung up the phone. Thus did Tony Neppach have his little joke, and his firm reaped an unlooked for reward for the same. A GRAPEVINE TELEGRAPH LINE. It was the Fourth of July, 1876, and the City of St. Louis was celebrating the occasion in the good old way, which is rapidly becoming merely a matter of history. The Atlantic & Pacific Telegraph Company had recently opened an office in the Missouri metropolis, but the facilities were, indeed, very meagre, consisting of but one wire to Chicago, which went along the highways and byways the entire distance. The telegraph company did a good business, the wire being crowded to its fullest capacity day and night. The advent of the new telegraph company had brought into existence a new daily paper, the Morning Chronicle, which came to fill a long felt want. The Chronicle could be supplied with press dispatches, a matter of vital moment in the introduction of a new journal, even in those days. On the afternoon of the "glorious Fourth" some bucolic individual with more enthusiasm than good sense, shot off several insulators near Alton, breaking the wire, and as the linemen were off duty celebrating the day the telegraph company was put out of business pending repairs. The writer was the night operator for this company at St. Louis at this time, and while regretting the unfortunate break and loss to the company, it looked like there was a chance for a holiday.