hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I put on my hat and went down to
the gas-office. I addressed one of the clerks:

"How much gas did you make at the Blank works last quarter?"

"I dunno; about a million feet, I reckon."

"Well, you have charged me in my bill for burning half a million more
than you made; I want you to correct it."

"Less see the bill. Hm--m--m! this is all right. It's taken off of the
meter. That's what the meter says."

"S'pose'n it does; I _couldn't_ have burned more'n you made."

"Can't help that; the meter can't lie."

"Well, but how d'you account for the difference?"

"Dunno; 'tain't our business to go nosing and poking around after
scientific truth. We depend on the meter. If that says you burned six
million feet, why, you _must_ have burned it, even if we never made a
foot of gas out at the works."

"To tell you the honest truth," said I, "the meter was frozen, and I
stirred it up with a poker and set it whizzing around."

"Price just the same," said the clerk. "We charge for pokers just as
we do for gas."