During a financial panic, a German farmer went to a bank for some money. He was told that the bank was not paying out money, but was using cashier's checks. He could not understand this, and insisted on money.
The officers took him in hand, one after another, with little effect. At last the president tried his hand, and after long and minute explanation, some inkling of the situation seemed to be dawning on the farmer's mind. Much encouraged, the president said: "You understand now how it is, don't you, Mr.. Schmidt?"
"I t'ink I do," admitted Mr. Schmidt. "It's like dis, aindt it? Ven my baby vakes up at night and vants some milk, I gif him a milk ticket."
She advanced to the paying teller's window and, handing in a check for fifty dollars, stated that it was a birthday present from her husband and asked for payment. The teller informed her that she must first endorse it.
"I don't know what you mean," she said hesitatingly.
"Why, you see," he explained, "you must write your name on the back, so that when we return the check to your husband, he will know we have paid you the money."
"Oh, is that all?" she said, relieved.... One minute elapses.
Thus the "endorsement": "Many thanks, dear, I've got the money. Your loving wife, Evelyn.
FRIEND—"So you're going to make it hot for that fellow who held up the bank, shot the cashier, and got away with the ten thousand?"
BANKER—"Yes, indeed. He was entirely too fresh. There's a decent way to do that, you know. If he wanted to get the money, why didn't he come into the bank and work his way up the way the rest of us did?"—Puck.