My Bank Account

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My Bank Account

Introduction:

Stephen Leacock, the author of“My Bank Account”, was a respectable University Teacher and highly successful with his writing and was a writer of great repute, he excelled in the art of humor.

My Bank Account, alive with delicate touches of the same, is an example of short story of rare charm and beauty.

The Story:

The Irresponsible fool:

As certain man was ever much too afraid to go into a bank and was afraid of the desk, the clerks and even the money.

So afraid he was indeed, that he became an irresponsible fool the moment he to do any business there.

The Raise in Salary:

None-the-less, when his salary was raised to fifty dollars a month, he made up his mind to put all his savings in a bank which he felt was the only safe place for it.

He goes to a bank:

He, therefore, walked into a bank. Needless to say his steps were unsteadily and he looked at the clerks in fear.

A silly Idea:

More ever, he had a silly idea that he must talk to the manager before he opened an account in the bank. He felt it was all too necessary.

The Accountant:

So he walked up to the accountant who was a tall, cool devil. In a voice, which sounded as if it came from the grave, he asked him, if he could see the manager ‘a lone’.

The Manager:

The accountant brought the manager.

A calm, serious man, he looked at the newcomer with some anxiety, for he thought he was detective with a terrible secret to tell or else a rich man with a large account to open.

To be sure, he took him into a private room and turned the key in the lock.

This made him worse so that he hardly found voice to speak. However, it was soon known that he was neither a detective nor a rich man.

The manager relieved but grew indifferent. In a cool cruel voice, he told him to go to the accountant. Nervous as never before, he walked into the big iron door of the safe.

The manager called him out and showed him the way.

The Account is opened:

Back to the accountant, he threw the 56 dollars; he had pressed together in a ball in his pocket, at him with a quick sudden movement, asking him to place it in the bank.

At last the account was opened. All this had been too much for him. His face turned terribly pale.

His voice was hollow and shaking no longer himself, he felt the bank swing before his eyes.

Another Silly Idea:

Another silly idea, then, came into his mind. He wished to draw out six dollars for present use, and asked for a cheque. But instead of writing 6 dollars, he wrote 56 on it.

And the mischief was done. The people of the bank were surprised and stopped writing to look at him.

One of them asked if he would draw it all out again. Not before long, he realized his mistake. At his wit’s end to reason any more, he felt it was impossible to explain.

So he grew bold and careless in his misery declared that he wanted the whole thing back to the last cent.