One of those ridiculous situations which at the time bring- the coldest sweat out on a man's brow, and ever after remain with him as a constant source of mirth, occurred to a Shelton merchant a few days ago. He thought he would take a bath, and as his flat is minus oae of the chief requisites for the job—a bathtub—he extemporised one out of a small washtub and enjoyed a cooling ablutior. He had just concluded and stepped from the tub for the towl, when suddenly the top hoop of the tub burst with a sharp report, and the man saw to his horror that the whole contents of the tub would soon be flooding the floor. At the same moment he thought of the store beneath and the amount of damage the water would do as it ran down through the ceiling. He is a man of quick thought, and in a moment he did the only thing possible, threw himself down beside the tub, and, clasping his arms around it, held the already fast-swelling staves together. He was successful in keeping the water in—but what a situation. He dared not yell, for he was hardly in a condition to receive callers, especially as he knew that all iu the block at the time were of the gentler sex, and he realised at once that the only thing left for him was to stay in that position until the return of his wife, who was out on a shopping expedition. Like the boy who saved Holland, he manfully remained'in hia most uncomfortable position until relief in the shape of hia wife appeared. Then, to cap the climax, when he asked her to get a rope or any old thing to tie about the tub, ahe, after a long fit of uncontrollable laughter, asked him why he didn't carry tub and contents out to the sink room and pour out the water. With a look that froze the Bmile on her face he did as she said, and without a word donned his clothing and wandered out into the cold, unfeeling World, a Crushed and humiliated man.
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UNNECESSARY HEROISM., Evening Star, Issue 10425, 21 September 1897