neutrality. Finally the spectre trained his pale eyes upon his host,
pulled in a long breath and remarked:

"Jake, I'm yur dead father. I come back to have a talk with ye 'bout
the way things is agoin' on. I want to know 'f you think it's right
notter recognise yur dead parent?"

"It is a little rough on you, dear," replied the son without looking
up, "but the fact is that [7 and 3 are 10, and 2 are 12, and 6 are
18] it is so long since you have been about [and 3 off are 15] that
I had kind of forgotten, and [2 into 4 goes twice, and 7 into 6 you
can't] you know how it is yourself. May I be permitted to again
inquire the precise nature of your present business?"

"Well, yes-if you wont talk anything but shop I s'pose I must come
to the p'int. Isay! you don't keep any thing to drink 'bout yer, do
ye-Jake?"

"14 from 23 are 9-I'll get you something when we get done. Please
explain how we can serve one another."

"Jake, I done everything for you, and you ain't done nothin' for me
since I died. I want a monument bigger'n Dave Broderick's, with an
eppytaph in gilt letters, by Joaquin Miller. I can't git into any
kind o' society till I have 'em. You've no idee how exclusive they
are where I am."

This dutiful son laid down his pencil and effected a stiffly
vertical attitude. He was all attention: