with a man who takes to readin' late in life. He can't keep it
down.

"Readin', me frind, is talked about be all readin' people as though
it was th' on'y thing that makes a man betther thin his neighbors.
But th' thruth is that readin' is th' nex' thing this side iv
goin' to bed f'r restin' th' mind. With mos' people it takes th'
place iv wurruk. A man doesn't think whin he's readin', or if he
has to, th' book is no fun. Did ye iver have something to do that
ye ought to do, but didn't want to, an' while ye was wishin' ye
was dead, did ye happen to pick up a newspaper? Ye know what
occurred. Ye didn't jus' skim through th' spoortin' intillygince
an' th' crime news. Whin ye got through with thim, ye read th'
other quarther iv th' pa-aper. Ye read about people ye niver heerd
iv, an' happenin's ye didn't undhersthand--th' fashion notes, th'
theatrical gossip, th' s'ciety news fr'm Peoria, th' quotations
on oats, th' curb market, th' rale-estate transfers, th' marredge
licenses, th' death notices, th' want ads., th' dhrygoods bargains,
an' even th' iditoryals. Thin ye r-read thim over again, with a
faint idee ye'd read thim befure. Thin ye yawned, studied th'
design iv th' carpet, an' settled down to wurruk. Was ye exercisin'
ye-er joynt intelleck while ye was readin'? No more thin if ye'd
been whistlin' or writin' ye-er name on a pa-aper. If anny wan
else but me come along they might say: 'What a mind Hinnissy has!
He's always readin'.' But I wud kick th' book or pa-aper out iv
ye-er hand, an' grab ye be th' collar, an' cry 'Up, Hinnissy, an'
to wurruk!' f'r I'd know ye were loafin'. Believe me, Hinnissy,
readin' is not thinkin'. It seems like it, an' whin it comes out
in talk sometimes, it sounds like it. It's a kind iv nearthought
that looks ginooine to th' thoughtless, but ye can't get annything