s landed?" inquired Ben.

"I've never told this before. Some Yale students went into a butcher
shop and one of 'em, to be funny, asked the butcher if he'd sell him a
yard of mutton. 'Certainly,' says the butcher. 'Fifty cents a yard.'
'All right,' says Mr. Student. 'I'll take two yards.' 'A dollar,
please,' says the butcher. 'Here you are,' says the student, and holds
up the money. Then the butcher takes the bill, puts it in his cash
drawer, and hands out--six sheep feet."

"Very old and musty," was Dave's comment. "Washington told that to Caesar
when the two were planning to throw Socrates into Niagara." And then a
laugh went up all around.

The boys were just finishing their lunch when the door opened and a
stout man walked in. He was covered with snow, and looked anything but
happy.

"Our friend of the smashed eggs," whispered Sam to Dave. "Wonder if he
has cleaned out his valise yet."

The man sat down at a side table and ordered several things. Then he
happened to glance around, noticed the students for the first time, and
scowled.

"Humph! what you fellows doing here?" he growled.

"Haven't we a right to come here?" demanded Dave, for the man was
looking straight at him.

"Shouldn't think the proprietor would want such gay larks as you here."

"I shouldn't think he'd want such a grunt as you here," retorted Sam
Day.

"Hi! now, don't you talk to me that way!" roared the stout man. "I want
you to understand I am a gentleman, I am."

"See here, we can't have any quarreling in here," said the restaurant
proprietor, coming forward.

"Some of them fellows knocked me down on the train and smashed a valise
full of eggs on me, Mr. Denman."

"We did nothing of the sort," answered Sam. "He fell on the icy platform
of the car and right on top of his valise."

"And then he got up and bumped into me," added Dave. "He was very
impolite, to say the least."

"Look here!" roared the stout man, "I want you to understand----"

"Wait a minute," interrupted Amos Denman, the restaurant keeper. "Isn't
your name Isaac Pludding?"

"Yes."

"Then you are the man who caused the trouble at Mr. Brown's restaurant
last week. I know you. Some time ago you were in here, and nothing
suited you. I don't want to serve you, and you can go elsewhere for your
meal."

"Don't want to sell me anything?" snarled Isaac Pludding.

"Not a mouthful. And, let me add, I consider these young men gentlemen,
and I won't have them annoyed