§ 264 A Family of Imitators
In the old days there was an ex-miner who opened a hotel in Reno, Nevada. Alongside the clerk’s desk he installed a cigar-stand and stocked it.
One day a traveling man, who had sold him his original supply and who was in the habit of serving him, dropped in and inquired whether there was anything in his line that the proprietor desired to-day.
“Sure, pard,” said the ex-miner. “You kin ship me another thousand of them Madero cigars. You needn’t send me any more of them punks made by Colorado Madero. And say, who in thunder is this young Clara Madero who’s busted into the cigar business and is tryin’ to git away with it by tradin’ on the family name?
“Me for old man Madero—to hell with his relatives!”