“I got it, vot you call dot tired feelings.”
“Can I do anything for you?”
“Yes, mein chilt. Go by de top of de steps und see if dere is a Vild Vest parade comin’ down de street.”
“Why, papa, what is wrong? Are you out of your head?”
“Out of mine headt! Come und touch it, dat I shall pe sure I haf von yet.”
“Papa, papa!” said Dora, really alarmed. “What is the matter? Oh, are you sick?”
“I t’ink I am deat, put I don’t know.”
“What is the matter? What is wrong?”
“Nodings wrong. He vas all right.”
Here the shoemaker jumped to his feet, shouting in a wavering voice: “Ee—you! I’m de ring-tailed broncho and it’s my time to buck. Ee—you!”