Perhaps you think I vent into him like a knife into a Prince's Bay.
But I didn't do no such think. I treated him werry perlite, and gin
him two dollars, a keg of crackers, and a jar of pickled oysters, on
condition he'd go and patronize some other establishment. Keep an eye
open for him, Samivel.

Be generous, Samivel, but don't carry generosity to XS, for an
antidote I'm about to relate, out of my pusnol experience, illustrates
the evil effex of excessive philanthrophy.

A little gal used to come into my shop to buy oysters. I seen she was
some kind of a foreigner, so I set her down for Dutch--as them vas the
only foreigners I vas acquainted vith at the time. I artervards
discovered she was French. She was werry thin, and as pale as a
soft-shelled clam; there was a dark blue color under her eyes, like
these here muscle shells. At first, she used to buy ninepence worth of
oysters. Arter a while it came down to fourpence; and one day she
only vanted two cents vorth. I asked her who they vas for, and she
said,--

"For my grandfather; he is very sick, sare."

I followed her, and found out where her grandfather lived. So one
night I opened four gallons of prime New Yorkers, put 'em in a kettle,
took a lot of crackers and soft bread, and started for the
Frenchman's. The little gal came to the door, and showed me up stairs.
The poor old customer was all alone, in bed, and yaller as a blanket.
He start up ven he see us, and exclaimed,--

_"Ah! mon Dieu! Antoinette, priez le gentilhomme de 'asseoir."_

The leetle gal offered me a stool, but I didn't set down.

"Mounseer," said I, in some French manufactured for the occasion, "I
havey broughtee you sommey oysteries," and I showed him the kittle,
with the kiver off.

I thought his eyes kind of vatered at the sight, but he sighed, and
turnin' to the leetle gal, said,--

_"Antoinette, dites a Monsieur, que je n'ai plus d'argent--pas un
sou."_

I guessed it was something about money, so afore the leetle gal could
translate it, I sang out,--

"I don't want no money, Mounseer; these here are free gratis, for
nothin' at all. I always treats my customers once in a while."

That was a lie, Samivel--but never mind, I gin him a dozen, and the
old fellur seemed to like 'em fust rate. Then I offered him some more,
but he hung back. However I made him swallow 'em, and offered some to
the leetle gal.

"After grandpapa," said she.

So I offered him some more.

"No more,