always had our young friend Fred Quizzle. He did not
know much, but he was mighty in asking questions. So when we had Governor
Wiseman, the well, we had Quizzle, the pump.

Fred was long and thin and jerky, and you never knew just where he would
put his foot. Indeed, he was not certain himself. He was thoroughly
illogical, and the question he asked would sometimes seem quite foreign to
the subject being discoursed upon. His legs were crooked and reminded you
of interrogation points, and his arms were interrogations, and his neck was
an interrogation, while his eyes had a very inquisitive look.

Fred Quizzle did not talk until over two years of age, notwithstanding all
his parents' exertions toward getting him to say "papa" and "mamma." After
his parents had made up their minds that he would never talk at all, he one
day rose from his block houses, looked into his father's eyes, and cried
out, "How?" as if inquiring in what manner he had found his way into this
world. His parent, outraged at the child's choice of an adverb for his
first expression instead of a noun masculine or a noun feminine indicative
of filial affection, proceeded to chastise the youngster, when Fred Quizzle
cried out for his second, "Why?" as though inquiring the cause of such
hasty punishment.

This early propensity for asking questions grew on him till at twenty-three
years of age he was a prodigy in this respect. So when we had Governor
Wiseman we also had Fred Quizzle, the former to discourse, the latter to
start him and keep him going.

Doctor Heavyasbricks was generally present at the same interview. We took
the doctor as a sort of sedative. After a season of hard work and nervous
excitement, Doctor Heavyasbricks had a quieting influence upon us. There
was no lightning in his disposition. He was a great laugher, but never at
any recent merriment. It took a long while for him to understand a joke.
Indeed, if it were subtle or elaborate, he never understood it. But give
the doctor, when in good health, a plain pun or repartee, and let him have
a day or two to think over it, and he would come in with uproarious
merriment that well-nigh would choke him to death, if the paroxysm happened
to take him with his mouth full of muffins.

When at our table, the time not positively occupied in mastication he
employed in looking first at Quizzle, the interlocutor, and then at
Governor Wiseman, the responding oracle.

Quizzle.--How have you, Governor W