American literature -- Humor; American wit and humor
"It is understood, of course, that this young man is a duly qualified
and capable physician, and that in the event of my finding it otherwise
I shall be at liberty to direct your check to other uses?"
"Oh, I can answer for his being all right, Bishop. He's thoroughly
up-to-date, you know; does the X-ray act; and keeps the pace of modern
science."
"You say you can answer for him," said the bishop genially. "Might I
inquire who _you_ are?"
"I'm named Westoby--Ezra Westoby--managing partner of Hodge & Westoby,
boxers."
"I like boxers," said the bishop in the tone of a benediction, rising to
dismiss me. "I like one thousand dollar checks, too. When you have any
more to spare just give them a fair wind in this direction!"
I went out feeling that the Episcopal Church had risen fifty per cent.
in my esteem. Bishops like that would make a success of any
denomination. I like to see a fellow who's on to his job.
I gave Jones a week to grapple with the new developments, and then
happened along. The anteroom was full, and there was a queue down the
street like a line of music-loving citizens waiting to hear Patti.
Nice, decent-looking people, with money in their hands. (I always like
to see a cash business, don't you?) I guess it took me an hour to crowd
my way up stairs, and even then I had to buy a man out of the line.
Jones was carrying off the boom more quietly than I cared about. He wore
a curt, snappy air. I don't know why, but I felt misgivings as I shook
hands with him.
Of course I commented on the rush.
"The Lord only knows what's happened to my practice," he said. "The
blamed thing has gone up like a rocket. It seems to me there must be a
great wave of sickness passing over New York just now."
"Everybody's complaining," I said.
This reminded him of my insomnia till I cut him short.
"What's the matter with our going down to the Van Coorts' from Saturday
to Tuesday," I said. "They haven't given up the hope of seeing you
there, Doctor, and the thing's still open."
Then I waited for him to jump with joy.
He didn't jump a bit. He shook his head. He distinctly said "No."
"I told you it was the money side of it that bothered me," he explained.
"So it was at the time, for, of course, I couldn't foresee that my
practice was going to fill the street and call for policemen to keep
order. But, my dear Westoby, after giving the subject a great deal of
consideration I have come to the conclusion that it would be too painful
for me to revive those--those--unhappy emotions I was just beginning to
recover from!"
"I thought you loved her!" I exclaimed.
"That's why I've determined not to go," he said. "I have outlived one
refusal. How do I know I have the strength, the determination, the
hardihood to undergo the agonies of another?"
It seemed a feeble remark to say that faint heart never won fair lady. I
growled it out more like a swear than anything else. I was disgusted
with the chump.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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