The Wart King

The Wart King.

He Charmed Away Warts, Corns and Bunions.

On a certain street in Baltimore one afternoon the throng of pedestrians upon the thoroughfare was immense. A reporter for the Herald was thoughtfully wending his way amid the sea of hurrying faces when his gaze rested upon the figure of a man standing motionless before a bakery window, gazing with wistful look at the enticing display of viands within. His attitude was dejected, but a look of defiance leaped from his eyes as his nostrils were greeted with the savory odor of cheese-cakes and lady-fingers. The individual concluded his revery, and turning round, confronted the reporter.

The action was so sudden that the scribe's progress was impeded, and in the moment of hesitation he noticed that the figure before him was incased in a most dilapidated wardrobe. A week's growth of beard bristled upon his chin, and a dickey, once white, was suspended around his neck by a blue ribbon below his coat sleeves peeped the wristbands of a red flannel shirt, but his voice was low and musical as with averted eyes he asked the scribe for a loan of a dime.

"Don't think I am begging," continued the man. "If you will give me your car I will send the money to your address to-morrow, or just as soon as business picks up. I am a professional man."

The scribe slowly withdrew his hand from his pocket. "What profession?" he asked, as he brought to view a dime.

The man bit the coin before replying. He balanced himself, snapped his fingers and while adjusting his dickey answered that he charmed away warts, that he had performed some marvelous cures upon bunions, and as for hard and soft corns they positively stood no show with him at all.

"Now, you see that wart on your left hand," said the magician, pointing to a large seed wart on the index finger of the reporter's left hand that had been there for years; "well, sir, I can charm that away," and he uttered an incoherent word and thanking the scribe for his assistance went his way.

A few days after the occurrence the same reporter was hurrying down Madison street when he was accosted with: "Hi, there! How's your wart?"

He looked up, and there, standing before him, was the wart king. He quickly glanced down at his hand--the wart was gone!