My Bank Account. BEAD THIS SLOWLY—AND THEN LAUGH.

Otago Witness, Issue 2199, 23 April 1896, Page 49

My Bank Account. BEAD THIS SLOWLY— AND THEN LAUGH.

When Igo into a bank I get confused. The clerks confuse me; the different departments confuse me ; the tight of the money confuses me. The moment I cross the threshold of a bank lam a hesitating jay. If I attempt to transact business there, I become an irresponsible idiot. I knew this beforehand, but my salary had been raised £2 a week, and I felt that the bank was the only place for ifc. So I shambled in and looked timidly round at the clerks. I bad an idea that a person about; to open an account must needs consult the manager. I went to a desk marked "Accountant." The accountant was a tall, cool fellow. The very sight of him confuted me. My voice was gepolohral, " Can I see the manager," I said, and added solemnly, "alone ?" I dont know why I said " »lone."

" Certainly," said the accountant, and fetched

held my £15 10s clutched in a warm, damp handful in my pocket. "Ate you the manager?" I said. Heaven knows I didn't doubt it. "Ye«,"hesaid. "Can't I see you," I asked, " alone?" I didn't want to say "alone" again, bub without it the thing seemed self-evident. The manager looked at me in some alarm. He felt that I had an awful secret to reveal. " Come in here," he said, and led the way to a private room. He turned the key in the lock. " We are safe from interruption here," he «aid. "Sit down." We both sat down and looked at one another. I found no voice to speak. " You are from Scotland Yard, I presume ?" be said. He had gathered from my mysterious manner that I was a detective. I knew what he was thinking, and it made me worse. "No ; not from Scotland Yard," I Baid, seeming to imply that I emae from a private agency. " To tell the truth," I wenb on, as if I had been prompted to lie about it, " I'm not a detective at all. I've come to open an acceunt. I intend to k«ep all my money in this bank." The manager looked relieved, but still serious. He concluded now that I was a son of Baron Rothschild or a budding Bamako. " A large account, I suppose ? " he said. " Fairly large," I whispered. " I propose to deposit £15 10s now and £2 a week regularly." The manager got up and opened the door. He called to the accountant. " Mr Montgomery," he said unkindly, " this gentleman is opening an acoount. He will deposit £15 10 a Good-morning ! " I rose. A big iron door stood open at the aide of the room. " Good-morning ! " I said, and stepped into the safe. I H Come out," said the manager coldly, and i showed me the other way. I went up to the | accountant's desk and poked the money at him with a quick, conclusive movement, as if I were doing a conjuring trick. My face was ghastly pale. " Here," I said, " deposit it." The tone of the words seemed to mean, " Let ua do this painful thing wtile tbe fit is on us." He took the money and gave it to another clerk. He made me write the sum on a slip of paper and sign my name in a book. I no longer knew what I was doing. The bank swam before my eyes. "Ia it deposited?" I asked in- a hollow, vibrating voice. " It ia," said the accountant. " Then I want to draw a cbeque." My idea was to draw out £1 103 0? it for present use. Someone gave me a cheque book over the counter, and someone else began telling me how to write it out. The people in the bank had the impression that I was an invalid millionaire. I wrote something on the cheque and thrust it in at the clerk. He looked at it. '• Wh-it 1 are you drawing it all out again ? " he asked in surprise. 'Vhea I reali'ed thai; I ; had written £15 10a ia&tead of £1 10 a. I was too far gune to reason now. I had a feeling that it was impossible to explain the thing. 1 All the clerks bad stopped writing to look at [ me. Reckless vrth misery I made a plunge. ! " Yes ; the whole tbiDg." "You withdraw your money from the bank?" " Every penny of it ! " " Are you not going to deposit any more ? " asked the clerk, astonished. "Never!" An idi>tiG hope struck me that they might think something had insulted me while I was writing the cheque, aDd that I had changed my mind. I made a wretched attempt to look like a man with a fearfully quick temper. The clerk prepared to pay the money. " How will you have it ? %>> "What?" *• How will you have it ? " " Oh ! " I caught his meaning, and answered, without eten trying to think: "In five-pound notes." He gave me three of them. "And the ten shillings ? " he asked drily. !• In half-sovereigns," I said. He give it to me, and I rushed out. As the big doors swung behind me I caught the echo of a roar of laughter that went up to the ceiling of the bank. Since then I bank no more. I keep my moaey in cash in my trousers pocket &nd my eaviDgs in gold in a sock 1