“Dr. Seveeah,”—Narcisse came forward, hat in hand,—“I dunno ’ow ’tis, but Mistoo Itchlin always wemine me of that povvub, ‘Ully to bed, ully to ’ise, make a pusson to be ’ealthy an’ wealthy an’ wise.’”
“I don’t know how it is, either,” grumbled the Doctor.
“I believe thass not the povvub I was thinking. I am acquainting myseff with those povvubs; but I’m somewhat gween in that light, in fact. Well, Doctah, I’m goin’ ad the—shoemakeh. I burs’ my shoe yistiddy. I was juz”—
“Very well, go.”
“Yesseh; and from the shoemakeh I’ll go”—
The Doctor glanced darkly over the top of the pamphlet.
“—Ad the bank; yesseh,” said Narcisse, and went.