DANNY'S OWN STORY BY DON MARQUIS TO MY ... - Pink Monkey

stranger. She was a peace, Jane was.
After she left, the perfessor set there quite a spell
and smoked. And he was looking tired out, too.
They wasn't no mistake about me. I was jest
dead all through my legs.
CHAPTER XII
I was down in the perfessor's labertory one day,
and that was a queer place. They was every
kind of scientifics that has ever been discovered
in it. Some was pickled in bottles and some
was stuffed and some was pinned to the walls with
their wings spread out. If you took hold of anything,
it was likely to be a skull and give you the shivers or
some electric contraption and shock you; and if you
tipped over a jar and it broke, enough germs might
get loose to slaughter a hull town. I was helping the
perfessor to unpack a lot of stuff some friends had sent
him, and I noticed a bottle that had onto it, blowed
in the glass:
DANIEL, DUNNE AND COMPANY
"That's funny," says I, out loud.
"What is?" asts the perfessor.
I showed him the bottle and told him how I was
named after the company that made 'em. He
says to look around me. They is all kinds of glassware
in that room--bottles and jars and queershaped
things with crooked tails and noses--and
nigh every piece of glass the perfessor owns is made
by that company.