The Artist's Barter; Or A Rude Customer Escapes with the Fuel

I sketched the proprietor of my local gas station with a single meandering ballpoint line.
He said he enjoyed the scratch of my pen but responded the likeness was only just fine.
In lieu of emolument takes he the napkin blackened with squid-ink noodles of picture,
His further demand for benjamins and hamiltons seemed to me to be an intransigent stricture.




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