“How are you feeling, Kingdom?� Dr. Cheyney asked genially, eying the juleps.
“Right po’ly, Doctah,� Kingdom replied, showing his ivories, “but I manages ter keep my color.�
“Eh?� said the doctor, startled.
Kingdom-Come beamed. “But I’se got er mis’ry in my chest, an’ I reckon I’se got vertigo an’ congestion ob de brain; I hez dese er dizzy turns, suh.�
“Take some castor oil, Kingdom,� said the doctor, placidly stirring his julep, “and put a mustard plaster on your stomach.�
“Yass, suh, thank yo’,� said Kingdom, a little weakly. “I’se done took two doses ob oil this week, an’ I’se been rubbin’ myse’f wid some ob dis yer kittycurah.�
“Good Lord!� said Dr. Cheyney, “take a pint of whiskey and go to bed.�
“William,� said Colonel Royall, after Kingdom had gone, “I don’t see why you set your face so flatly against Jacob Eaton’s investments. Who has talked this up?�
“Caleb Trench,� said the doctor.
“Heavens!� ejaculated Colonel Royall, “is there no end?�