I leave these: a box of mint-condition 1918 liberty-head silver dollars. You see, back in those days, rich men would ride around in Zeppelins,
dropping coins on people, and one day I seen J.D. Rockefeller flying by. So I run of the house with a big washtub and... hey!
Where are you going? Anyway, about my washtub. I'd just used it that morning to wash my turkey, which in
those days was known as...a walking-bird. We'd always have walking-bird on Thanksgiving, with all the trimmings:
cranberries, injun eyes, yams stuffed with gunpowder. Then we'd all watch football, which in those days was
called baseball. We can't bust heads like we used to, but we have our ways. One trick is to tell 'em stories
that don't go anywhere - like the time I caught the ferry over to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for my shoe, so,
I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt,
which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of
bumblebees on 'em. Give me five bees for a quarter, you'd say. Now where were we? Oh yeah: the important thing
was I had an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time. They didn't have white onions because of the war.
The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones...