Some gentlemen were talking about meanness yesterday,
when one said he knew a man on Lexington
avenue who was the meanest man in New York.

“How mean is that?” I asked.

“Why, Eli,” he said, “he is so mean that he keeps
a five-cent piece with a string tied to it to give to
beggars; and when their backs are turned he jerks it
out of their pockets!

“Why, this man is so confounded mean,” continued
the gentleman, “that he gave his children ten cents a
piece every night for going to bed without their supper,
but during the night, when they were asleep, he went
up stairs, took the money out of their clothes, and
then whipped them in the morning for losing it.”

“Does he do anything else?”

“Yes, the other day I dined with him, and I noticed
the poor little servant girl whistled all the way upstairs
with the dessert; and when I asked the mean
old scamp what made her whistle so happily, he said:

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[figure description] Page 182.[end figure description]

“`Why, I keep her whistling so she can't eat the
raisins out of the cake.”'