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The Learned Phrenologist sat in his Office surrounded by his Whiskers.

Now and then he put a Forefinger to his Brow and glanced at the Mirror to make sure that he still resembled William Cullen Bryant.

Near him, on a Table, was a Pallid Head made of Plaster-of-Paris and stickily ornamented with small Labels. On the wall was a Chart showing that the Orangoutang does not have Daniel Webster’s facial angle.

“Is the Graft played out?” asked the Learned Phrenologist, as he waited. “Is Science up against it or What?”

Then he heard the fall of Heavy Feet and resumed his Imitation. The Door opened and there came into the Room a tall, rangy Person with a Head in the shape of a Rocky Ford Cantaloupe.

Aroused from his Meditation, the Learned Phrenologist looked up at the Stranger as through a Glass, darkly, and pointed to a Red Plush Chair.

The Easy Mark collapsed into the Boarding-House Chair and the Man with more Whiskers than Darwin ever saw stood behind Him and ran his Fingers over his Head, Tarantula-Wise.

“Well, well!” said the Learned Phrenologist “Enough Benevolence here to do a family of Eight. Courage? I guess yes! Dewey’s got the same kind of a Lump right over the Left Ear. Love of Home and Friends–like the ridge behind a Bunker! Firmness–out of sight! Reverence–well, when it comes to Reverence, you’re certainly There with the Goods! Conscientiousness, Hope, and Ideality–the Limit! And as for Metaphysical Penetration–oh, Say, the Metaphysical Penetration, right where you part the Hair–oh, Laura! Say, you’ve got Charles Eliot Norton whipped to a Custard. I’ve got my Hand on it now. You can feel it yourself, can’t you?”

“I can feel Something,” replied the Human Being, with a rapt Smile.

“Wit, Compassion and Poetic Talent–right here where I’ve got my Thumb–a Cinch! I think you’ll run as high as 98 per cent on all the Intellectual Faculties. In your Case we have a Rare Combination of Executive Ability, or the Power to Command, and those Qualities of Benevolence and Ideality which contribute to the fostering of Permanent Religious Sentiment. I don’t know what your present Occupation is, but you ought to be President of a Theological Seminary. Kindly slip me Three Dollars before you Pass Out.”

The Tall Man separated himself from Two Days’ Pay and then went out on the Street and pushed People off the Sidewalk, He thought so well of Himself.

Thereafter, as before, he drove a Truck, but he was always glad to know that he could have been President of a Theological Seminary.

Moral: A good Jolly is worth Whatever you Pay for it.