“Gusty, dear,” said his wife, “you know the doctor said—”

“Hang the doctor!”

“Your arm, my love.”

“I wish you'd leave off pitying my arm, and have some compassion on my stomach.”

“The doctor said—”

“There are oysters in the house; I'll do myself more good by the use of an oyster-knife than all the lancets in the College of Surgeons.”

“But your wound, dear?”

“Are they Carlingfords or Poldoodies?”

“So fresh, love.”

“So much the better.”