A Causeway
A Rich Woman having returned from abroad disembarked at the foot of Knee-deep Street, and was about to walk to her hotel through the mud.
“Madam,” said a Policeman, “I cannot permit you to do that; you would soil your shoes and stockings.”
“Oh, that is of no importance, really,” replied the Rich Woman, with a cheerful smile.
“But, madam, it is needless; from the wharf to the hotel, as you observe, extends an unbroken line of prostrate newspaper men who crave the honour of having you walk upon them.”
“In that case,” she said, seating herself in a doorway and unlocking her satchel, “I shall have to put on my rubber boots.”