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Leacock, Stephen, 1869-1944

"Frenzied Fiction"


"You, sir," he said, "have, of course, read our municipal
by-laws?"
"Oh, yes," I answered. "Splendid, aren't they? They read
like a romance."
"You are most flattering to our city," said the irascible
gentleman with a bow. "Yet you, sir, I take it, are not
from Toronto."
"No," I answered, as humbly as I could. "I'm from Montreal."
"Ah!" said the gentleman, as he sat back and took a
thorough look at me. "From Montreal? Are you drunk?"
"No," I replied. "I don't think so."
"But you are _suffering_ for a drink," said my new
acquaintance eagerly. "You need it, eh? You feel already
a kind of craving, eh what?"
"No," I answered. "The fact is it's rather early in the
morning--"
"Quite so," broke in the irascible gentleman, "but I
understand that in Montreal all the saloons are open at
seven, and even at that hour are crowded, sir, crowded."
I shook my head.
"I think that has been exaggerated," I said. "In fact,
we always try to avoid crowding and jostling as far as
possible. It is generally understood, as a matter of
politeness, that the first place in the line is given to
the clergy, the Board of Trade, and the heads of the
universities."
"Is it conceivable!" said the gentleman in grey.


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