“Do you feel that air?” asked the dentist.
“That air whut?” said the young lady.
§ 313 Complete in Every Detail
The gentleman who entered the popular-price restaurant must have had a great night the night before. Because he felt so miserable this morning. And looked it! He was disheveled; his eyes were wan and bloodshot; his hand trembled. In short, it was plain to any eye that he suffered from what, technically, is known as a hang-over.
He fell into a chair at the table, took one look at the breakfast menu and gagged. To him, all affability, came a colored waiter.
“Well, boss,” began the servitor genially, “whut’s it goin’ to be this mawnin’?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said the sufferer. He sniffed the close air of the little place and turned slightly paler. “I feel like the devil. About all I want, I guess, is two fried eggs and a few kind words.”
“Lemme see ef I got that right?” said the waiter. “You is feelin’ kind of puny so all w’ich you craves frum me is two fried aigs an’ a few kind words.”
“That’s it.”
The colored man hurried to the kitchen. Presently he returned balancing a small platter. On the cloth before the nervous patron he placed a dish containing two eggs.