I enter an insolvent bank. The examiners or administrators are busy examining books and getting the bank's affairs straightened out. My errand is to purchase 2 drain plugs, each with chain, and 2 patent plugs, made of this composition and very fragile, for a kitchen sink. The patent plugs were in about three pieces each. The bank employees are too busy to wait on me and I stroll around waiting for a clerk. The chief examiner is a young, clean-cut fellow. As 4:00 (quitting time) approaches every one rushes about madly to finish in time. One of the girls (a fairly plump one) tells me it is now too late for me to get anything, and anyway the patent plugs would have to be ordered from another store and delivered to the bank. They would be ready for me tomorrow. I then ask that, at least, the ordinary drain plugs be sold to me, but a heavy set man who has just pulled on his coat and is hurrying toward the door says it's too late, as the other stores are all closed, and he waves his arm toward some of the stores across the street. I now realize that the plugs are not regularly in stock by the bank. At about this time one of the men, evidently one of the bank officials, a small, slender, prim gray haired man, pauses by the desk of the young chief examiner and invites him to dinner. The latter replies, "Thank rivers" [apparently like "oceans of love," etc.] but is unable to accept as he must catch his train to next town almost immediately. The examiner then goes into the alley next to the bank, where the telephone is, and telephones a report which consists entirely of figures. He has some papers on which are hundreds, if not thousands, of figures all of which must be mentioned. He speaks .... mouthpiece with incredible speed, so that the resultant sound is of rapid sputtering, and many of us gather around him to admire his great skill.