Alph. Well, the disgrace of the thing muddled his brain box.
Stumpy. Sorter give him the jim-jams in his head.
Alph. Just so. But the warden was a friend of his, and tried to do all he could for him. Yesterday he sent a waiter up with a pickled ham on a tray for Charlie. Charlie ups and kicks it off. What do you suppose the waiter did?
Stumpy. Eat the ham.
Alph. No; he slugged Charlie, so. (Hits Stumpy. Same biz as before.)
Alph. Caught him again. I must have broke his ear.
Stumpy. Tell me some more; real nice story.
Alph. Grand joke, ain’t it?
Stumpy. Immense; but say, Hannah Rothschild, does that bald-headed child-killer over there know the racket?
Alph. No; I’ve given it to you first.