I then, began to talk about going out "hus'ling" again.
"Oh, yes; it's well enough for you to talk. You can 'hus'le,' but what can I do? I'd look nice running around peddling your cussed old dope, wouldn't I?"
I remarked that I thought he would do well among the Dutch and Irish, if he didn't use too much impecuniosity, and would learn to take their money when they offered it.
He said I hadn't the sense of a young gosling, and if I didn't quit twitting him of those things, he would pack up and leave, if he had to walk out of town. I said to him:
"Well, Doctor, if you do start out on foot, I'd advise you to take a few bottles of my Incomprehensible Compound, double-distilled furniture and piano lustre."
He gazed at me over his spectacles with a sickly smile, then jumping to his feet, began his customary tirade, and pranced back and forth like a caged animal.
