The 'Easy' Job That Wasn't

“I'm rather tired of working in the mines,” said an intelligent-looking young fellow in the barroom of a hotel on Main Street last evening. The proprietor, a fat man who keeps to his chair when he isn't in bed, looked up and said: “Would you like a nice, easy job, with almost nothing to do, at $4 a day?” “You bet your life,” cried the miner with interest. “Can you keep books?” “Yes, I guess so.” “Well, I'll give you a job right there. I want a bookkeeper. I’ll expect you to tend bar, of course, but that's no work at all. You'll have to sleep down here in the barroom, for folks come along in buggies at night and want something to warm ’em up. But that won't be no work at all, as you’ll only have to get up four or five times a night, perhaps. Of course, you’ll have to water the horses—folks expect that, and it brings custom, but it ain’t no work at all to get a bucket o' water to a horse or two. It's a real soft thing but I ain’t mean and allus pay good wages. There's only two stoves to keep goin’—this one here and that in the kitchen. The axe is out there in the yard, and it ain’t no work at all to split enough kindling and mahogany to keep two goin’. I’ve only got two horses myself, but it ain’t no work at all to keep ’em fixed; and it won't take you no time at all to milk three cows. Some folks don't care to be clean; but as for me, I allus like to have the barroom and sidewalk washed off mornings—but that ain’t no work at all. Our cook is a good man when he’s sober; he gets off his nut now and then, and of course, you'll have to stand in—but that ain’t no work at all. You're in luck, young fellow, and I like your looks, and don't stand about throwing a soft thing in the way of a steady young man starting in life. If you'll only make yourself handy with the baggage, and run an errand now and again for the boarders, me and you’ll get along prime, I’ll bet.” The landlord looked shocked and astonished when the young man said he'd stick to his job at the Richmond.