The man soon passed us, and the beggar followed. He caught up with him in a moment, and as I had also followed, I managed to overhear a part of the conversation. It was something like this:
"I say, boss, can' cher gimme the price of a meal?"
"Nein; dat kan ich nit."
"Well, can you take me home 'n' feed me?"
"Nein."
"Well, say; can' cher gimme a cigar?"
"Nein"—in anger.
"Well, say,"—and he put his arm affectionately on the Dutchman's shoulder,—"let's go 'n' have a drink. Eh?"
"Nein."
"Well, you old hoosier, you, can you gimme some apple-butter?"