"F after it," cried Mrs. Gowsky, from the bottom of the table.
"Madam, you are quite right," replied Mr. Pillikins, bowing. "It has not an F after it, as the baby's name undoubtedly has, and the effect is certainly, more inefable on account of it. Ha, ha! you understand?" Never was there such a punster as the old gentleman. "And then follows a—"
"All the rest," said I, "is just what you did with your Herald this morning, Mr. Pillikins. What was that?"
"Madam, I tore it up."
"No, no. What was the first thing you did with it?"
"Madam, I dried it before the grate. The newspapers nowadays come so damp to one that it is enough to give one the gout in the fingers to hold them."
"Think again," I continued. "What did you do with it after having dried it?"
"Madam, I glanced over its contents, and—"
"O you tease!" said I, "you didn't do anything of the kind. You read it. There!"
"Yes, madam. I read it."