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Uncle Josh's Punkin Centre Stories

Uncle Josh in Wall Street

I USED to read in our town paper down home at Punkin Centre a whole lot about Wall street and them bulls and bears, and one thing and another, so I jist sed to myself—now Joshua, when you git down to New York City, that's jist what you want to see. Wall, when I got to New York, I got a feller to show me whar it wuz, and I'll be durned if I know why they call it Wall street; it didn't hav any wall round it. I walked up and down it bout an hour and a half, and I couldn't find any stock exchange or see any place fer watterin' any stock. I couldn't see a pig nor a cow, nor a sheep nor a calf, or anything else that looked like stock to me. So finally I sed to a gentleman—Mister, whar do they keep the menagery down here. He sed "what menagery?" I sed the place whar they've got all them bulls and bears a fitin'. Wall he looked at me as though he thought I wuz crazy, and I guess he did, but he sed "you cum along with me, guess I can show you what you want to see." Wall I went along with him, and he took me up to some public institushun, near as I could make out it wuz a loonytick asylem. Wall he took me into a room about two akers and a half squar, and thar wuz about two thousand of the crazyest men in thar I ever seen in all my life. The minnit I sot eyes on them I knowed they wuz all crazy, and I'd hav to umer them if I got out of thar alive. One feller wuz a standin' on the top of a table with a lot of papers in his hand, and a yellin' like a Comanche injin, and all the rest of them wuz tryin' to git at him. Finally I sed to one of 'em—Mister, what are you a tryin' to do with that feller up thar on the table? And he sed, "Wall he's got five thousand bushels of wheat and we are tryin' to git it away from him." Wall, jist the minnit he sed that I knowed fer certain they wuz all crazy, cos nobody but a crazy man would ever think he had five thousand bushels of wheat in his coat and pants pockits. Wall when they wan't a looking I got out of thar, and I felt mighty thankful to git out. There wuz a feller standin' on the front steps; he had a sort of a unyform on; I guess he wuz Superintendent of the institushun; he talked purty sassy to me. I sed, Mister, what time does the fust car go up town. He sed "the fust one went about twenty-five years ago." I sed to him—is that my car over thar? He sed "no sir, that car belongs to the street car company." I sez, wall guess I'll take it anyhow. He says "you'd better not, thar's bin a good many cars missed around here lately." I sed, wall now, I want to know, is thar anything round here any fresher than you be? He sed, "yes, sir, that bench you're a sotten on is a little fresher; they painted it about ten minnits ago." Wall, I got up and looked, and durned if he wasn't right.


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