From e2ba204e14c191a7df19bf89c4ab001a4613fab7 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Alex Cabal Date: Thu, 9 Apr 2020 20:05:28 -0500 Subject: [PATCH] [Editorial] A B C -> A.B.C. --- src/epub/text/a-night-in-new-arabia.xhtml | 2 +- src/epub/text/the-harbinger.xhtml | 2 +- 2 files changed, 2 insertions(+), 2 deletions(-) diff --git a/src/epub/text/a-night-in-new-arabia.xhtml b/src/epub/text/a-night-in-new-arabia.xhtml index c528818..c3c66a9 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/a-night-in-new-arabia.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/a-night-in-new-arabia.xhtml @@ -28,7 +28,7 @@

There will be dialogue and stage business pretty soon.

When Jacob first began to compare the eyes of needles with the camels in the zoo he decided upon organized charity. He had his secretary send a check for one million to the Universal Benevolent Association of the Globe. You may have looked down through a grating in front of a decayed warehouse for a nickel that you had dropped through. But that is neither here nor there. The Association acknowledged receipt of his favor of the 24th ult. with enclosure as stated. Separated by a double line, but still mighty close to the matter under the caption of “Oddities of the Day’s News” in an evening paper, Jacob Spraggins read that one “Jasper Spargyous” had “donated $100,000 to the U. B. A. of G.” A camel may have a stomach for each day in the week; but I dare not venture to accord him whiskers, for fear of the Great Displeasure at Washington; but if he have whiskers, surely not one of them will seem to have been inserted in the eye of a needle by that effort of that rich man to enter the K. of H. The right is reserved to reject any and all bids; signed, S. Peter, secretary and gatekeeper.

Next, Jacob selected the best endowed college he could scare up and presented it with a $200,000 laboratory. The college did not maintain a scientific course, but it accepted the money and built an elaborate lavatory instead, which was no diversion of funds so far as Jacob ever discovered.

-

The faculty met and invited Jacob to come over and take his A B C degree. Before sending the invitation they smiled, cut out the C, added the proper punctuation marks, and all was well.

+

The faculty met and invited Jacob to come over and take his A.B.C. degree. Before sending the invitation they smiled, cut out the C, added the proper punctuation marks, and all was well.

While walking on the campus before being capped and gowned, Jacob saw two professors strolling nearby. Their voices, long adapted to indoor acoustics, undesignedly reached his ear.

“There goes the latest chevalier d’industrie,” said one of them, “to buy a sleeping powder from us. He gets his degree tomorrow.”

“In foro conscientiae,” said the other. “Let’s ’eave ’arf a brick at ’im.”

diff --git a/src/epub/text/the-harbinger.xhtml b/src/epub/text/the-harbinger.xhtml index 7c1de51..658a1c7 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/the-harbinger.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/the-harbinger.xhtml @@ -33,7 +33,7 @@

“You have a dollar,” he said, loftily, but significantly in the tone that goes with the lighting of a cigar⁠—when the properties are at hand.

“I have,” said Mrs. Peters, producing the bill from her bosom and crackling it, teasingly.

“I am offered a position in a⁠—in a tea store,” said Mr. Peters. “I am to begin work tomorrow. But it will be necessary for me to buy a pair of⁠—”

-

“You are a liar,” said Mrs. Peters, reinterring the note. “No tea store, nor no A B C store, nor no junk shop would have you. I rubbed the skin off both me hands washin’ jumpers and overalls to make that dollar. Do you think it come out of them suds to buy the kind you put into you? Skiddoo! Get your mind off of money.”

+

“You are a liar,” said Mrs. Peters, reinterring the note. “No tea store, nor no A.B.C. store, nor no junk shop would have you. I rubbed the skin off both me hands washin’ jumpers and overalls to make that dollar. Do you think it come out of them suds to buy the kind you put into you? Skiddoo! Get your mind off of money.”

Evidently the poses of Talleyrand were not worth one hundred cents on that dollar. But diplomacy is dexterous. The artistic temperament of Mr. Peters lifted him by the straps of his congress gaiters and set him on new ground. He called up a look of desperate melancholy to his eyes.

“Clara,” he said, hollowly, “to struggle further is useless. You have always misunderstood me. Heaven knows I have striven with all my might to keep my head above the waves of misfortune, but⁠—”

“Cut out the rainbow of hope and that stuff about walkin’ one by one through the narrow isles of Spain,” said Mrs. Peters, with a sigh. “I’ve heard it so often. There’s an ounce bottle of carbolic on the shelf behind the empty coffee can. Drink hearty.”