"Hello, old Beeswax," he bellered; "how's yer grandmams? When
you goin' to feed your stuffed animils?"

"What's the matter with the eminent physician?" I pleasantly
inquired.

"This," he said; "this is what's the matter. I'm a habit-ooal
drunkard! I'm exempt!"

"Jes' so."

"Do you see them beans, old man?" and he pinted to a plate
before him. "Do you see 'em?"

"I do. They are a cheerful fruit when used tempritly."

"Well," said he, "I hadn't eat anything since last week. I
eat beans now BECAUSE I eat beans THEN. I never mix my
vittles!"

"It's quite proper you should eat a little suthin' once in a
while," I said. "It's a good idee to occasionally instruct
the stummick that it mustn't depend excloosively on licker for
its sustainance."

"A blessin'," he cried; "a blessin' onto the hed of the man
what invented beans. A blessin' onto his hed!"

"Which his name is GILSON! He's a first family of Bostin,"
said I.