THE BOOK AGENT AGAIN.

Temuka Leader, Issue 1239, 13 September 1884, Page 2

THE BOOK AGENT AGAIN.

A Philadelphia book agent importuned James Watson, a rich and close New York man, living out at Elizabeth, until he bought a book—“ The Early Christian Martyrs.” Mr Watson didn’t want the book, but he bought it to get rid of the agent; then taking it under his arm, he started for the train which takes him to his New York offices. Mr Watson hadn’t been gone long before Mrs Watson came home from a neighbor’s. The book agent went in and persuaded her to buy another copy of the same work. She was ignorant of the fact that her husband had bought the same book in the morning. When Mr Watson came back from New York at night Mrs Watson showed him the book. “ I don’t want to see it,” said Watson, frowning terribly. , “ Why, husband?” asked the wife. “Because that rascally book agent sold me the same h"ok this morning. Now we have got two copies cf the same book—two copies of the ‘ Early Christian Martyrs,' and ” “But husband, we can “No we can’t either,” interrupted Mr Watson. “The man is off by the train before this. Confound it ! I could kill the fellow. I ” “Why there he goes to the depot now,” said Mrs Watson, pointing out of the window at the retreating form of the book agent,*.making for the train. “ But it’s too late to catch him, and I’m not dressed. I’ve taken off my boots, and of Mr Watson, drove by, when Watson pounded on the window pain in a frantic manner, almost frightening the horse. “ Here, Stevens,” he shouted, “ you’re hitched up ; won’t you run your horse down to the train and hold that book agent till I come? Run ! Catch ’im now !” “ All right,” said Mr Stevens, whipping up, and tearing down the road. Mr Stevens reached the train just as the conductor shouted “ all aboard ?” “Book agent !” he yelled, as the agent stepped on to the train. “ Book agent, hold on ! Mr Watson wants to see you.” Watson ? Watson wants to see me ?” repeated the seemingly puzzled book agent, “ Oh, I know what be wants ; he wants to buy one of my books, but 1 can’t miss the train to sell it to him.” “If that is all he wants, I can pay you for it and take it back with me for him. How much is it?” “Two dollars for the ‘Early Christian Martyrs,’ ’’ said the book aent, as he reached for the money and passed the book out through the window. Just then Mr Watson arrived, puffing and blowing, in his shirt sleeves. As he saw the train pull out he was too full f<>r utterance. “ Well, I got it for you,” said Stevens; just got it and that’s ali.” “Got what?” yelled Watson. “Why I »ot the book—‘Early Christian Martyrs.’ and ” “By the great guns!” moaned Watson, as he placed his hand to his brow and swooned right in the middle of the street.