Morning Appeal

They used to meet at the "Falstaff" a social crowd of jolly old business men mostly, crack their musty jokes and drink Hollahans XXX ale. One warm Sunday morning there was a full attendance under the shade of the ample Venetian awning which covered the front of the house, and some one started the profound puzzle, "what three coins make a dollar?" which some quick witted member dropped on finally, and just as he had done so; Schindler a German brewer who usually made one of the crowd, came around the corner a half block off. "Don't say noding's," said Jake Seckel another brewer, "until I catch Schindler, by Schimminy." "Morgen," said Schindler, as he drew up his chair. "Morgen," said Seckel, with a wink at the other boys. "Say, Schindler, how much is a half und doo gwaters?" Schindler studied a moment, looked at Seckel as much as to say, "What are you giving us?" and replied; "Vy a thaler, you damn fool." "Damn my tutch het" said Seckel, as he slapped his thigh: "Sach Yake, bring owet dot ale.