A well-known but broken-down Detroit newspaper man, who had been a power in his day, approached an old friend the other day in the Pontchartrain Hotel and said:
"What do you think? I have just received the prize insult of my life. A paper down in Muncie, Ind., offered me a job."
"Do you call that an insult?"
"Not the job, but the salary. They offered me twelve dollars a week."
"Well," said the friend, "twelve dollars a week is better than nothing."
"Twelve a week—thunder!" exclaimed the old scribe. "I can borrow more than that right here in Detroit."—Detroit Free Press.
One winter morning Henry Clay, finding himself in need of money, went to the Riggs Bank and asked for the loan of $250 on his personal note. He was told that while his credit was perfectly good, it was the inflexible rule of the bank to require an endorser. The great statesman hunted up Daniel Webster and asked him to indorse the note.
"With pleasure," said Webster. "But I need some money myself. Why not make your note for five hundred, and you and I will split it?"
This they did. And today the note is in the Riggs Bank—unpaid.