ou."

"There won't be any toast and water--eh?"

"Devil a mouthful; and we are to have the celebrated Cooke, the
Pythagorean."

"Ay, but is he a good cook?"

"He's the celebrated Pythagorean, I tell you."

"Pythagorean--what's that? I thought you said he was a cook. Does he
understand venison properly? O, good Lord! what a life I'm leading!
Toast and water--toast and water. But it's all the result of this
famine. And yet they know I'm wealthy. I say, what's this your name is?"

"Never mind that--an old acquaintance. Hell and torments! what's this?
O!"

"The weather's pleasant, Topertoe. I say, Topertoe, what's this your
name is?"

"O! O!" exclaimed Topertoe, who felt one or two desperate twinges of
his prevailing malady; "curse me, Manifold, but I think I would exchange
with you; your complaint is an easy one compared to mine. You are a mere
block, and will pop off without pain, instead of being racked like a
soul in perdition as I am."

"Your soul in perdition--well I suppose it will. But don't groan and
scream so--you I are not there yet; when you are you will have plenty
of time to groan and scream. As for myself, I will be likely to sleep
it out there. I think, by the way, I had the pleasure of knowing you
before; your face is familiar to me. What's this you call the man that
attends sick people?"

"A doctor. O! O! Hell and torments! what is this? Yes, a doctor. O! O!"

"Ay, a doctor. Confound me, but I think my head's going around like
a top. Yes, a--a--a--a doctor. Well, the doctor says that I and Parson
Topertoe led a nice life of it--one a glutton and the other a drunkard.
Do you know Topertoe? Because if you don't I do. He is a damned
scoundrel, and squeezed his tithes out of the people with pincers of
blood."

"Manifold, your gluttony has brought you to a fine pass. Are you alive
or not?"

"Eh? Curse all dry toast and water! But it's all the consequence of this
year of famine. Pray, sir, what do you eat?"

"Beef, mutton, venison, fowl, ham, turbot, salmon, black sole, with all
the proper and corresponding sauces and condiments."

"O Lord! and no toast and water, beef tea, and oatmeal gruel? Heavens!
how I wish this year of famine was past. It will be the death of me.
I say, what's this your name is? Your face is familiar to me somehow.
Could you aid me in poisoning the--the--what you call him--ay, the
doctor?"

"Nothing more easily done, my dear Manifold. Contrive to let him take
one of