A dumpy little woman with solemn eyes, holding by the hand two dumpy little boys, came to the box-office of a theater. Handing in a quarter, she asked meekly for the best seat she could get for that money.
"Those boys must have tickets if you take them in," said the clerk.
"Oh, no, mister," she said. "I never pay for them. I never can spare more than a quarter, and I just love a show. We won't cheat you any, mister, for they both go sound asleep just as soon as they get into a seat, and don't see a single bit of it."
The argument convinced the ticket man, and he allowed the two children to pass in.
Toward the end of the second act an usher came out of the auditorium and handed a twenty-five-cent piece to the ticket-seller.
"What's this?" demanded the latter.
"I don't know," said the usher. "A little chunk of a woman beckoned me clear across the house, and said one of her kids had waked up and was looking at the show, and that I should bring you that quarter."