FPAFM by Francis Warfield
I ordered ham and eggs, as I always do on the diner, and then, as I
always do, looked around for pamphlets. There was one handy. “Echoes
from Colonial Days,” it was called, “being a little fouvenir iffued from
time to time for the benefit of the guefts of The Baltimore & Ohio
Railroad Company as a reminder of pleafant moments fpent . ..”
Involuntarily, my lips began to move. I reached for a pencil. But the
man across from me already had his pencil out. He had written:
“Oh, fay can you fee?”
I said: “Fing Fomething Fimple.”
“Filly, ifn’t it?” he said, and kept on writing.
I wrote: “Fing a Fong of Fixpence.”
“Oh, ftop the fongs,” he said. “Too eafy.” He wrote: “The Courtfhip of
Miles Ftandifh,” “I fee a fquirrel,” “I undereftimate ftatefmanfhip,”
“My fifter feems
fuperfenfitive,” and seeing that I did not appreciate the last one,
which he evidently thought very fine, he wrote: “Forry to fee you fo
ftupid.”
I ate my lunch grouchily. How could I help it if he was in practice and
I was not? He had probably taken this train before.
“Pafs the falt,” I said.
“Pleafe pafs the falt,” he triumphed.
I paid no attention. “Waiter!” I said. The waiter did not budge.
“You muft fpeak the language,” said the man opposite me. He called out:
“Fay! Fteward!”
The waiter jumped to attention. “Fir?” he said.
“Pleafe fill the faltcellar.”
“The falt-fhaker fhall be replenifhed inftantly,” replied the waiter,
with a superior gleam in his eyes.
I smiled and my companion unbent a little.
“Let’s try for hard ones,” he invited.
“Fure,” I said.
“Farcafm,” he said.
“Fubftance.”
“Fubfiftence,” he scored.
“Fcythe:’ “S’s inside now,” he ruled.
“Perfuafive,” I said instantly.
“Languifh.”
“Bafilifk:”
“Quiefcent”
“Nonfenfe,” I finished. “Fon of a fpeckled fea monfter.”
“Ftep-fon of a poifonous fnake!” he cried.
“You don’t fay fo!” I retored.
“I do fo fay fo!” he replied, getting up and leaving the diner.
“Fool!” I called after him, fniffling.
From A Subtreasury of American Humor, E. B. White and Katherine S. White
editors, Coward-McCann, NY, 1941.
XXX Shaman
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