"It's true," said Dan, shortly. "Me and Mame is at outs. If I was dyin', I couldn't forgive her!"
"You don't say?" cried Jimmie. "Wal, Miss Edna Parkinson an' yours truly ain't goin' ter speak never no more, neither. That hound Ikey Greenberg has cut in with a noo Prince Albert coat. It's upset me considerable."
"My trouble ain't heart only," said Dan.
"Stomach?" suggested Pete.
"All overish, mostly."
"You ain't bin readin' the advertisements o' quack doctors, hev ye?"
"Not since I was twenty. They did give me fits at one time. Boys"--he began to scratch himself furiously--"I've a feelin' as if I was afire inside."
"Maw used ter give me sarsaparilla," said Jimmie.
"My folks," observed Pete, "never tuk nothin' but castor ile. Must ha' downed a barrel o' that when I was a kid."
"This thing is drivin' me crazy," said Dan.