ver 'ere
amazing. I'd 'ave backed 'im against a ruddy orstridge! Orstridge! I'd
'ave backed 'im against 'arff a dozen orstridges--take 'em on one
after the other in the same ring on the same evening--and given 'em a
handicap, too! 'E was a jewel, that boy. I've seen him polish off four
pounds of steak and mealy potatoes and then look round kind of wolfish,
as much as to ask when dinner was going to begin! That's the kind of a
lad 'e was till this very morning. 'E would have out-swallowed this 'ere
O'Dowd without turning a hair, as a relish before 'is tea! I'd got a
couple of 'undred dollars on 'im, and thought myself lucky to get the
odds. And now--"

Mr. Blake relapsed into a tortured silence.

"But what's the matter with the blighter? Why can't he go over the top?
Has he got indigestion?"

"Indigestion?" Mr. Blaife laughed another of his hollow laughs. "You
couldn't give that boy indigestion if you fed 'im in on safety-razor
blades. Religion's more like what 'e's got."

"Religion?"

"Well, you can call it that. Seems last night, instead of goin' and
resting 'is mind at a picture-palace like I told him to, 'e sneaked off
to some sort of a lecture down on Eighth Avenue. 'E said 'e'd seen a
piece about it in the papers, and it was about Rational Eating, and that
kind of attracted 'im. 'E sort of thought 'e might pick up a few hints,
like. 'E didn't know what rational eating was, but it sounded to 'im as
if it must be something to do with food, and 'e didn't want to miss it.
'E came in here just now," said Mr. Blake, dully, "and 'e was a changed
lad! Scared to death 'e was! Said the way 'e'd been goin' on in the
past, it was a wonder 'e'd got any stummick left! It was a lady that
give the lecture, and this boy said it was amazing what she told 'em
about blood-pressure and things 'e didn't even know 'e 'ad. She showed
'em pictures, coloured pictures, of what 'appens inside the injudicious
eater's stummick who doesn't chew his food, and it was like a
battlefield! 'E said 'e would no more think of eatin' a lot of pie than
'e would of shootin' 'imself, and anyhow eating pie would be a quicker
death. I reasoned with 'im, Mr. Moffam, with tears in my eyes. I asked
'im was he goin' to chuck away fame and wealth just because a woman
who didn't know what she was talking about had shown him a lot of faked
pictures. But there wasn't any doin' anything with him. 'E give me the
knock and 'opped it down the street to buy nuts." M