A CRUEL INDIGNITY.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VII, Issue 9, 28 February 1891, Page 20

A CRUEL INDIGNITY.

‘ I beg your pardon, madame, for intruding upon you at meal-time,’ he said, politely, ‘ but may I ask you for a little salt ?’ The lady brought him a salt-box. He looked at it meditatingly and leaned against one of the pillars of the porch. •It is a foolish habit I have got into,’ he said in an apologetic way, ‘ and I dare say you will consider it one of questionable taste, but I always eat salt on my watermelon.’ ‘ But you haven’t any watermelon,’ said the lady of the house. ‘ Thank you kindly for suggesting it,’ answered the seedylooking tourist, gratefully. ‘Shall I eat the melon out here ?’ ‘ I don't see bow you can. We have no water-melon today.’ ‘ No watermelon at all in the house?’ ‘ None.’ ‘ Then, madame,’ said the caller, in the tone of an injured man, ‘ permit me to return the salt. I will not say lam angry, but I am hurt—deeply hurt. You have raised my expectations and cruelly disappointed them. I leave you, madame, to your reflections.’ He made a low bow’, handed back the salt-box with the air of a king declining a dukedom, and two minutes later lie was on the back porch at the next neighbour’s asking for a little horse-radish.