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Show lie Became Ilumblo. There is a pompous cashier in a certain San Francisco bank who lost all his pride the other day. "You rnntit bo identified," he said to a tall, book nosed woman in green, red and blue, who brought in a check at a time his window was crowded. "Well, I I why I no, it can't be! Yes, it is, too. Ain't you Henry Smyth?" "That's my name, madam," ho replied re-plied coldly. "An' yon don't know me, Hen? I'm changed some, &.n' so air you; but I jist knowed I'd seen ye. You've got that same old cast in your left eye, your nose crooks a little to the left, an' you're a Smyth ah over. An' you don't know me! Don't know Salindy Spratt that yon uster coax to become Salindy Smyth. 'Member bow ye uster haul me to school on your sled an' kiss me in the lane an' call me your little true love? 'Member how ye cut up 'cause I gave ye tho mitten? Land, Hen. I could stand here all day talkin' over tbem old times! You kin i-dentify mo now, can't you, Hen?" "Hen" did bo, but in a mood that almost al-most produced apoplexy. San Francisco Fran-cisco Wasp, |