"No, I never did," I said, meekly.
"And yet you claim to love it. Bah!" he said.
And then I obeyed his command, drained my glass to the dregs, and returned. "What is your mission?" I asked, when I had made myself as comfortable as was possible under the circumstances.
"To relieve you of your woes," he said.
"You are a homoeopath, I observe," said I, with a sneer. "You are a homoeopath in theory and an allopath in practice."
"I am not usually unintelligent," said he. "I fail to comprehend your meaning. Perhaps you express yourself badly."
"I wish you'd express yourself for Zulu-land," I retorted, hotly. "What I mean is, you believe in the similia similibus business, but you prescribe large doses. I don't believe troubles like mine can be cured on your plan. A man can't get rid of his stock by adding to it."
[Illustration]
"Ah, I see. You think I have added to your troubles?"
"I don't think so," I answered, with a fond glance at my ruined tie. "I know so."