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The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 40

Jim Keene's Washerwoman. — An Enterprising Female Who Washed Soiled Linen in a $80,000 House

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Jim Keene's Washerwoman.

An Enterprising Female Who Washed Soiled Linen in a $80,000 House.

"The fact is," said Jim Keene, the great New York rival of Jay Gould, as he relaxed his usual taciturnity under the genial influence of one of Sam Ward's dinners the other day, "The fact is no matter how clever and thorough a man's system of stock operating may be, there is always occurring some little unforseen and apparently insignificant circumstance that is forever knocking the best laid plans into a cocked hat."

"As how?"

"Well, for instance, about a year ago I was doing a good deal in Lake Shore, and counted on making a good clean up. I discovered, however, that there was some hidden influence in the market that was always against me. It didn't exactly defeat my plans, but it lessened the profits. I soon saw that there was some operator who was kept informed as to my movements in time to make me pay for his knowledge."

"Broker gave you away?" said several.

"Not at all. I never gave an order in advance, and, besides, I used, as now, half a dozen brokers, and also gave 'cross' and 'dummy' orders in plenty. One day, while I was standing by the window of my up-town place, cogitating over this state of affairs, an elegant private coupe drove past, and stopped just around the corner from my door. It contained a richly-dressed lady and a ragged looking girl. The latter got out, rang my basement bell and was admitted. I sent for my man servant, and inquired who the girl might be."

"'She comes for the wash, sir,'" he said.

"'Does she generally come in a coupe?' I inquired.

"Why, no, sir,' said my man, very much surprised; 'her mother, the washerwoman, is very poor.'

"Just then my own carriage drove round for me, and as it passed the other I could see the lady eagerly sorting the soiled clothes in the coupe on her lap. This excited my curiosity, so I had my driver follow along behind. Pretty soon the coupe stopped, and the dirty little girl got out with the bundle and went into a brownstone front on Twenty-ninth street. The coupe then kept straight on down to Wall street, and stopped in front of a broker's office, where the lady alighted with my entire lot of soiled shirt cuffs in her hand.

"'Shirt cuffs?' cried the entire company.

"Exactly, shirt cuffs. I saw through it all in a moment. You see, I am—or rather was—a great hand while at dinner, or at the theatre in the evening, to think over my plans for the next day, and to make memorandums on my cuffs to consult before starting down town in the morning. My washerwoman had found this out, and had been quietly 'coppering' my game by means of my cuffs for over a year."

"Well, by jove!" said Sam Ward, pausing a single instant in the sacred mystery of salad dressing.

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"It's the cold fact," continued Keene. "In less than eight months she had cleaned up over $6000,000 and was washing my clothes—at least my cuffs—in an $80,000 house. She had diamonds and horses until you couldn't rest."

"You didn't make any more cuff mems, after that?" laughed several.

"Well, not many—just a few," said the great operator, holding his Burgundy up to the light. "I believe I kept it up about a month longer, at the end of which time I had raked in the washerwoman's bank account, and even had a mortgage on the brownstone house. It was quite a coincidence, wasn't it? But perhaps the information she found on the cuffs after that wasn't as exact as it had been, somehow, nor as reliable."

And the "king of the street" emptied his glass with an indescribable wink that made Beach, who was short on Harlem, shiver like a cat who had just swallowed a live mouse.

Speaking on the Irish Land Bill, the Duke of Argyll thus humourously spoke of certain members of the House of Lords opposed to him in debate :—"My lords, when I look at my noble friends below me I cannot help regarding them as very like what I have seen in the Western Highlands of Scotland—a row of jelly fishes. (Laughter.) My noble friends need not be affronted at this. Jelly fishes are among the most beautiful creatures in the world. (Renewed laughter.) They have been the study of eminent biologists for many years. They have a very delicate nervous system; but hitherto it is believed that they are destitute of a skeleton and backbone. They have this peculiarity : They make most beautiful convulsive movements in the water, and they seem to swim along the water; but when you look more closely you find that they are only floating with the currents and the tide. That is the position of my noble friends." (Cheers and laughter.)

A comet which travels a million and a half of miles per day must get tired towards night. Give the poor thing a rest.

If 6,000 old maids should pile into Nebraska each and every one could find a husband to love cherish and protect her.

Peace, gentle peace, broods o'er the land, and yet Krupp has erected two new cannon foundaries and engaged 2,000 extra workmen.

An Indian never snores in his sleep, until after he has become partly civilised. In his natural state he is too lazy to even turn over in bed.

A government clerkship, in Germany, involves 180 days of waiting, sixteen examinations, and enough red tape to reach across the Atlantic.

Drink plenty of water. Leave liquor for a cooler season.—New Orleans Picayune. This is the coolest season we ever knew.—New Haven Register.

It has lately been discovered that Washington, Napoleon, Franklin, Watts, Harvey, Newton, and Shakespeare snored in their sleep. It is an evidence of greatness.