HE GREW RICH STAR GAZING.
Counted 17,000,000 Shooting Stars,
and 'Phoned John D.
At least one man saw shooting stars in the heavens last night. He had read a prophecy of the pyrotechnical display and early in the evening he started on his rounds star gazing. Occasional trips were made to the drinking emporiums and at the end of refreshments the man would dash madly out into the middle of the street and gaze longingly at the heavens. Passersby saw his lips move convulsively, and one who was possessed of more temerity and curiosity than his brothers approached near enough to hear him whisper:
"Money, Money, Money."
There was a pause until the deluded man saw another star flying from Venus to Jupiter or from Broadway to McGee streets and once more he would gasp convulsively:
"Money, Money, Money."
After some three hours of such behavior the saloons closed. Just before the doors of the saloon of his last choice were to close this strange man went to the telephone.
"Gi'me John D. Rock'feller," he demanded. The operator connected him with the emergency hospital.
"Hello," replied the surgeon in charge in answer to the telephone ring.
"Is that you J. D. R.? Well I just called you up to tell you that you are backed off the financial map. I saw 17,000,000 shooting starts tonight and said 'Money, Money, Money' after each one of them, three times apiece. Sure sign of money. What'll you sell out for?"
"Guess he really needed emergency treatment," said the amiable emergency surgeon. "Batty, clean batty."
