Aunt Jane's Nieces
"Mr. Marvin in?" he inquired, pleasantly.
"Not arrived yet," said the official, who wore a big star upon his
breast.
"I'll wait," announced Uncle John, and sat down upon a leather-covered
bench.
The official strutted up and down, watching the customers who entered
the bank or departed, and keeping a sharp watch on the little man upon
the bench.
Another hour passed.
Presently Uncle John jumped up and approached the official.
"Hasn't Mr. Marvin arrived yet?" he enquired, sharply.
"An hour ago," was the reply.
"Then why didn't you let me know? I want to see him."
"He's busy mornings. Has to look over the mail. He can't see you yet."
"Well, he will see me, and right away. Tell him John Merrick is here."
"Your card, sir."
"I haven't any. My name will do."
The official hesitated, and glanced at the little man's seedy garb and
countryfied air. But something in the angry glance of the shrewd
eye made him fear he had made a mistake. He opened a small door and
disappeared.
In a moment the door burst open to allow egress to a big, red-bearded
man in his shirtsleeves, who glanced around briefly and then rushed at
Uncle John and shook both his hands cordially.
"My dear Mr. Merrick!" he exclaimed, "I'm delighted and honored to see
you here. Come to my room at once. A great surprise and pleasure, sir!
Thomas, I'm engaged!"
This last was directed at the head of the amazed porter, who, as the
door slammed in his face, nodded solemnly and remarked:
"Fooled ag'in, and I might 'a' known it. Drat these 'ere billionaires!
Why don't they dress like decent people?"
Uncle John had been advised by Patsy where to go for a good cheap
luncheon; but he did not heed her admonition. Instead, he rode in a
carriage beside the banker to a splendid club, where he was served
with the finest dishes the chef could provide on short notice.
Moreover, Mr. Marvin introduced him to several substantial gentlemen
as "Mr. John Merrick, of Portland"; and each one bowed profoundly and
declared he was "highly honored.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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