"Because it is made to come out."
"Did you want to kill yourself?"
"If I did it would have been my own funeral."
"How about the others?"
"They had no business here."
"Think it over in the clink—ten days."
I could think of nothing else but the fellow who was passing a private residence one day with a pitchfork on his shoulder, and a big dog came rushing out at him, and he jammed the dog through with his pitchfork, killing him. The owner came out in a great rage.
"What did you do that for?"
"What did your dog run at me for?"
"Why didn't you hit him with the other end?"