"Why, Patrick, you seem to be in great pain—you have taken something that disagrees with you." "Yes, doctor, I swallowed a potato bug be accident, and although I took some Paris green a minute after it don't quiet the disgraceful little baste. He's racing up and down and all round inside of me."
"If you would refuse occasionally when those hateful men ask you to drink," said Mrs. Booce, "you would not be coming home in this condition. You lack firmness of character."
"Don't you b'leeve nossin' of the sort," said Mr. Booce, with much dignity. "The fellers tried to start me home more'n two hours ago."
Guest—"Am I the unlucky thirteener?"
Host—"No, you're the lucky fourteener. You're to fill up the gap."
Guest—"All right; I've brought it with me."