My considerable ire was raised yet again this past week when I was subjected to the ignominy of an intrusion on my privacy, conducted by means of the insulting mechanical-tele-phone device, by a reporter calling from the infamous Gentle-Man's Quarterly Gazette.

The utter disrespect shown me by the ne'er-do-well remains a smarting wound! After first addressing me as "Herman"–I did not even realize that he meant me until I spotted my middle name engraved upon the oaken head-board of my death-bed– the reporter asked if he could ask me "a few questions" about my lavish life-style, about which his readers were quite curious! Then, multiplying his affront, the so-called "gentle-man" was rude to me when I refused to speak of these matters, unleashing a torrent of invective which, in more civilized times, would have earned him a hundred lashes on the soles of his feet. Imagine–to swear at the man who owns the Onion news-paper, a vast fleet of clipper-ships, and three of the Dionne quintuplets!

Upon examining this Gentle-Man's Quarterly Gazette, I was not surprised to find it was no more than a lengthy treatise on neckerchief-tying and wench-bedding, written for desk-shackled clerks and ledger-loined accountants. How does this help gentle-men go about their business? It was not neckerchief-tying and wench-bedding that got me where I am to-day! It was the sort of hard-headed sense that I impart to you here, in Zweibel's Advice For Gentle-men:

Endeavor to be born wealthy.

If you are not an only son, you can become one through hard work and perseverance.

Employees are not slaves and will not respond to being treated as such. Therefore, own slaves whenever possible.

German history is pregnant with good business advice.

The 22-pound Royal typewriter can crush a skull as if it were fine porcelain.

Bosoms above the fold sell more papers than anything, excepting war. Arranging for either is not all that difficult.

Mistresses should leave via the back-door or chimney.

There! The seven guidelines every gentle-man must know. Oh, and also, a penny saved is a penny clutched to one's palpitating breast late at night when no-one is watching. That is all you need to know, I think.