ything, and the digestion of an ostrich.
Risk it, won't you?

_Duespeptos._ (With determined air, clenching knife and fork pointing
skywards.)--Stranger, le' 's come to a distinct understandin' on this
subjick afore we git much older. You know puffickly wal what I am,--a
confirmed dyspeptic for twenty-five year. An' I a'n't ashamed on it,
nuther; but I'm proud to say I glory in it. You know puffickly wal what
my notions is about all this 'ere stuff, an' still you keep stickin' it
into my face. Now, ef you want me to lambaste ye, I'm the man to do it,
an' do it hahnsome. But ef yer life a'n't insured clean up to the hub,
an' ef ye've got any survivin' friends, I advise ye not to tote any more
o' that 'ere grub in this direction. I give ye fair warnin',--yer've
raised my dander, an' put my Ebenezer up. I'd jest as lieves wallop ye
as eat, an' ten times lieveser.

_Eupeptos._--Really, Sir, no offence intended. I saw that your taste was
delicate, and offered you these various tit-bits in the hope that some
one of them might prove acceptable. But pray, Sir, do not starve
yourself on my account. What in the world can you eat? Do not, I beseech
you, by undue fasting, deprive the world of so distinguished----

_Duespeptos._ (Mollifying.)--Fact is, I knew jest how 't was goin' to
be. They allers fry everythin' an' cook it up in grease, so no
respectable man can git any decent vittles t' eat. So I jest went out
an' laid in plenty o' my own provender,--suthin' reliable an' wholesome,
ye know. Brought aboard a firkin o' Graham-biscuit,--jest the meal mixed
up with water,--no salt, no emptins, no nuthin'. 'T's the healthiest
thing out o' jail. It's Natur's own food, an' the best eatin' I know.
Raael good flavor, git 'em good, besides bein' puffickly harmless an'
salubrious. I cal'late I've got enough to run the machine, an' keep it
all trig up to concert-pitch, till I git ashore, ef so be th' old tub
don't send us to Davy Jones's locker. Here, try one,--I've got a
plenty,--an' you'll say they're fust-rate. Leave them 'ere pancakes, an'
all that p'is'n truck. Arter you take one o' these, you'll never tech
nuthin' else.

_Eupeptos._--Thank you, Sir, but if it's all the same to you, please
excuse me this time. I have other fish to fry. In fact, Sir, I am
entirely destitute of equanimity, and have no particle of stability in
my disposition. Not a drop of Scotch blood in my veins.

_Duespeptos._--There's no oats about these; an' ef