“Tell me what the trouble is,” suggested Fred good-naturedly. “Perhaps I can help you.”
“From the best I can find out I think I am threatened with hydrostatic internal spontaneous combustion.”
“It’s more likely your conscience,” laughed Fred.
“No, it isn’t my conscience. I can stick a pin in that and not flinch. No, it’s something else that’s the matter with me. I feel as if I were burning up inside.”
“You’re not going to get anything out of me,” laughed Fred, “to put out the fire.”
“That’s a pity,” said the tramp, who now seated himself quietly on the foot of the stairs. “That’s a pity. All I need is a nickel to stop that roaring flame. I’m suffering from another trouble too,” added the tramp.
“What’s that?”
“Overweariness of the flesh. I’ve had that for considerable time. It’s a great source of suffering. Still, I don’t know that either of those is quite as bad as something else.”
“What, have you got more troubles still?”
“Yes, I have.”