Taking the Starch Out — 217
“A capital example,” writes a reader, “of what is often termed ‘taking the starch out,’ happened recently in a country bank in New England. A pompous, well-dressed individual entered the bank, and, addressing the teller, who is something of a wag, inquired: ‘Is the cashier in?’ ‘No, sir,’ was the reply. ‘Well, I am dealing in pens—supplying the New England banks pretty largely—and I suppose it will be proper for me to deal with the cashier.’ ‘I suppose it will,’ said the teller. ‘Very well; I will wait.’ The pen-pedlar took a chair, and sat composedly for a full hour, waiting for the cashier. By that time, he began to grow uneasy, but sat twisting in his chair for about twenty minutes, and, seeing no prospect of a change in his circumstances, asked the teller how soon the cashier would be in. ‘Well, I don’t know exactly,’ said the waggish teller, ‘but I expect him in about eight weeks. He has just gone to Lake Superior, and told me he thought he should come back in that time.’ Pedlar thought he would not wait. ‘Oh, stay if you wish,’ said the teller, very blandly; ‘we have no objection to your sitting here in the day time, and you can probably find some place in town where they will be glad to keep you of nights.’ The pompous pedlar disappeared without another word.”