A Bad Sign.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 1, 3 November 1869, Page 1

A Bad Sign.

There are a few men in Cincinnati who mako a living by selling cheap signs of various kinds to hang outside corner groceries, saloons, A r c. Since it was vecomm.m led-by the Board'of Health that, signs inscribed "Small Pox" should be suspended in front of every house where that disuse; j prevailed, one of the most enterprising of ! the cheap sign dealers prepared a quantity of them to be ready for an expected demaud. The other morning he called with his assortment at a lager beer saloon, over the canal. " Want any signs 1" he inquired of the portly proprietor. " Yah," said Hans, " I want a sign, ' Sawdust Yanted.'" " Here it is," said the dealer, who was a bit of a wag, handing him one. of his smallpox signs ; an'd receiving Ins pay, he departed. The unsuspecting Teuton, supposing it all right, hung it outside of his door. People passing on the walk,- saw the sign, turned pale, and hurried to the other side of the street. Regular customers came, caught sight of the ominous inscription, and stole away, remarking that tliey guessed they weren't very dry that morning anyhow. A very importunate creditor, whom nothing could daunt before, bleached at the sight, and on going home he. went straight to bed. In the meantime the saloon keeper was wondering at the absqnce of his customers. The regular forenoon* lunch was spread—soup, boiled tripe,' Bologna sausage, stewed liver' and onions/ sauerkraut, and brown bread. Being of a social disposition, this solitxale was oppressive to him, aside from being unprofitable. At length one man came in, and cal led for a glass of beer. His face was deeply pitted. He had had it. " I see by your sign out there," said the man, with a motion of his head to the front-door, " that you have got it here." "Nien," replied .Hans, supposing that Ire alluded to sawdust wanted; "I don't have got 'em now already. 1 yoost put out my sign, so I getoh 'em von they comes dis" vay all de vile." " You want to catch' it," said the customer, in amazement,' "Yah, that's what's the madder. I vants loads of 'em. Good tings to.hu.Vo i mit tier house. I packs 'em up mit my : cellar, unt sprinkle the floor mit my saloon j all over 'em. It gleans out a house, bully, mind I tell you." ■" You're right," said the stranger. "If small-pox won't clean I out a house, I don't know what will." j " Small-box !" cried the astonished Dutchman'; " vat you mean by small-box ?" Lxplanation of course ensued, and the wrath of that becr-jerker was fearful to behold. Could ho have fastened his embrace on the painter at that time, he would have paid dearly for the joke he perpetrated.— Wooddnch {Ontario) Tin&s.