utters other soothing remarks of that general nature. He then
exchanges the crochet needle for a kind of an instrument with a
burr on the end of it. This instrument first came into use at the
time of the Spanish Inquisition but has since been greatly
improved on and brought right up to date. He takes this handy
little utensil and proceeds to stir up your imagination some more.
You again try to say something, speaking in a muffled tone, but he
is not listening. He is calling to a brother assassin in the
adjoining room to come and see a magnificent example of a prime
old-vatted triple X exposed nerve. So the Second Grave Digger
rests his tools against the palate of his victim and comes in.

As nearly as you can gather from hearsay evidence, you not being
an eye witness yourself, one of them harpoons the nerve just back
of the gills with a nutpick--remember please it is your nerve that
they are taking all these liberties with--and pulls it out of its
retreat and the other man takes a tack hammer and tries to beat
its brains out. Any time he misses the nerve he hits you, so his
average is still a thousand, and it is fine practice for him. A
pleasant time is had by everybody present except you and the nerve.
The nerve wraps its hind legs around your breastbone and hangs on
desperately. You perspire freely and make noises like a drunken
Zulu trying to sing a Swedish folk song while holding a spoonful
of hot mush in his mouth.

In time becoming wearied even of these congenial diversions and
tiring of the shop talk that has been going on, the second dentist
returns to his original prey and the party who has you in charge
tries a new experiment. He arms himself with a kind of an
automatic hammering machine, somewhat similar to the steam riveter