advice."

"About what?"

"About your health."

"Yes, yes, do," he said. Advice about his health was
right in his line. He lived on it.

"Well, then, cut out all this fool business of diet and
drugs and nitrogen. Don't bother about anything of the
sort. Forget it. Eat everything you want to, just when
you want it. Drink all you like. Smoke all you can--and
you'll feel a new man in a week."

"Say, do you think so!" he panted, his eyes filled with
a new light.

"I know it," I answered. And as I left him I shook hands
with a warm feeling about my heart of being a benefactor
to the human race.

Next day, sure enough, Podge's usual chair at the club
was empty.

"Out getting some decent exercise," I thought. "Thank
Heaven!"

Nor did he come the next day, nor the next, nor for a
week.