to be funny, asked the butcher if he'd sell him a yard of mutton. 'Certainly,' says the butcher. 'Fifty cents a yard.' 'All right,' says Mr. Student. 'I'll take two yards.' 'A dollar, please,' says the butcher. 'Here you are,' says the student, and holds up the money. Then the butcher takes the bill, puts it in his cash drawer, and hands out—six sheep feet."
"Very old and musty," was Dave's comment. "Washington told that to Cæsar when the two were planning to throw Socrates into Niagara." And then a laugh went up all around.
The boys were just finishing their lunch when the door opened and a stout man walked in. He was covered with snow, and looked anything but happy.
"Our friend of the smashed eggs," whispered Sam to Dave. "Wonder if he has cleaned out his valise yet."
The man sat down at a side table and ordered several things. Then he happened to glance around, noticed the students for the first time, and scowled.
"Humph! what you fellows doing here?" he growled.
"Haven't we a right to come here?" demanded Dave, for the man was looking straight at him.
"Shouldn't think the proprietor would want such gay larks as you here."
