MR KETTEN AND THE SHODDYITE.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 2103, 19 November 1880, Page 3

MR KETTEN AND THE SHODDYITE.

The following story related by a San Francisoo paper concerning Mr Henry Ketten, who is about to visit Canterbury, is too good to be lost. Mr Ketten, says the paper, not only left behind him the goodwill and'hearty I favor "due to this accomplished artist and courteous gentleman, but also the memory of so thorough and matchless a snub to one of those intolerable vulgarians who form the superstructure of Frisco society that the writer says he could afford to ever hold him in grateful remembrance for the latter reason alone. It appears that Mr K. was invited to a party at the house of one of the local Plutocrats, a large importing merchant, and attended the same with his wife, precisely as would any other expected guest. To his Burprise, however, he found the company sitting solemnly around, as though in a concert hall, aud himself at onoe pressed to " play something "by his host. The courteous Frenchman complied, and, in response to repeated requests, continued to entertain the company for nearly two hours. When at last he was thoroughly fatigued, supper was announced, whereupon the host arose and s*id, " You've

I got piano punching down fine, Ketten, old fellow. Now, if you'll play these young folks a few quadrilles and polkas while the balance of us go down to hash, I'll send up Martha Louise to rolieve you presently; or, if you like, you can have something sent up, and eat it right hero on the piano. I first kinder calculated to have to engage a couple of fiddlers, but the old lady said she thought you wouldn't mind. I'll make it all right when you go." Tho astonished artist gazed at the speaker—who was well known to have been a bar-keeper in the " good old dayß " for a few moments utterly dumfounded ; then, controlling himself, he gravely turned his back and began playing dance musio as requested. When the company had all reassembled in the drawingroom, he raised his voice and said, " Pray let Bome whisky, lemons ard sugar be brought in." It wbb done. "Now then," said Mr Ketten, fixing his eye on the host—" now then, mix me some cocktails, my good fellow. Every man to his trade." There was an awful silence, and then tho shoddycrat, with a ghastly attempt to carry off the joke, prepared the drink and handed it to tho musician. The latter drank the beverage critically. " You're losing practice, my good man. The fellow at the hotel bar does much better. There, you may keep the change." And, tossing the almost asphyxiated millionnaire a half-dollar, he put his wife under his arm and walked out.