DODGIN’ THE HATTER.

Western Star, Issue 932, 21 March 1885, Page 1 (Supplement)

DODGIN’ THE HATTER.

Mir Dodgion, the hatter, of Independence, Mo., was a very polite manbland and mild in manner, and innocent lof all suspicion. One bright, beautiful morning in June he had a fashionable customer in the person of a young man, handsomely dressed, combed, gloved, caned and moustached; just out of college, and just on his way to the drawing-room. He selected a fashionable hat, adjusted it on the side of his head, lingered before the mirror for a time, arranging his necktie, twitching his moustache, twirling his cane, and lavishing laudable admiration on himself, and then turning to the smiling proprietor he muttered something about his pocket-book in his trunk, his present pressing engagement, and directed his old hat to be sent to his room at the hotel by 2 o'clock, when he would be back and pay for the new. The hat disappeared round the corner with the nice young man under it, and the twirling cane tanning the sunlight about it. Two o'clock came, and the old hat, with la neatly made-out bill for the new, were despatched by a clerk to room No. 13. The hatter awaited his return with some anxiety j nor did he wait long. The clerk hurried back with the information that ayoung man of that description had just left on the stage coach; Mr .Dodgion hastened to the hotel to find it too true. Could it be possible that such a nice young man wouldi deceive him 1 As he turned to leave the office the clerk informed him that the coach had to call at a certain place before it left the city, and possibly it might be detained. He caught the idea and made for the indicated spot as fast ns his legs, his flesb, and the heat would permit. After going up and down hill and across fences and commons, until he was nearly out of breath, he saw the coach go off, hailed it, and in another moment stood almost speechless before the astonished passengers. There sat the nice young Tnan with a bran new silk hat sticking on the side of his head. The batter looked at him and he looked at the hatter. The hatter bowed politely to him, and the hat bowed politely to the natter. At length the hatter said, “ 1 am Dodgion, the hatter.” “So am I,” was the cool reply. “ But lam Dodgion, the hatter,” said Mr Dodgion, with emphasis. “ That is just what I have been doing for the last two hours,” said the fellow, quietly. “ Can’t you understand me,’’ you dunce ? I am Dodgion, the hatter, of this place.” “ Can’t you understand me, you old fool ? I have been dodgin’ the batter of this place nearly all day.” It was too much. Mr Dodgion appealed to the passengers, informing them of the transaction. They evidently enjoyed the scene, but made the youth “ shell mr ,