ften outlived the absence of a square meal it might, in time,
overcome the presence of one. I went on ministering to my fatal vice,
although I felt that each time I shoved a potato into my mouth in
Mame's presence I might be burying my fondest hopes.

"I think Collier must have spoken to Mame and got the same answer, for
one day he orders a cup of coffee and a cracker, and sits nibbling the
corner of it like a girl in the parlour, that's filled up in the
kitchen, previous, on cold roast and fried cabbage. I caught on and
did the same, and maybe we thought we'd made a hit! The next day we
tried it again, and out comes old man Dugan fetching in his hands the
fairy viands.

"'Kinder off yer feed, ain't ye, gents?' he asks, fatherly and some
sardonic. 'Thought I'd spell Mame a bit, seein' the work was light,
and my rheumatiz can stand the strain.'

"So back me and Collier had to drop to the heavy grub again. I noticed
about that time that I was seized by a most uncommon and devastating
appetite. I ate until Mame must have hated to see me darken the door.
Afterward I found out that I had been made the victim of the first
dark and irreligious trick played on me by Ed Collier. Him and me had
been taking drinks together uptown regular, trying to drown our thirst
for food. That man had bribed about ten bartenders to always put a big
slug of Appletree's Anaconda Appetite Bitters in every one of my
drinks. But the last trick he played me was hardest to forget.

"One day Collier failed to show up at the tent. A man told me he left
town that morning. My only rival now was the bill of fare. A few days
before he left Collier had presented me with a two-gallon jug of fine
whisky which he said a cousin had sent him from Kentucky. I now have
reason to believe that it contained Appletree's Anaconda Appetite
Bitters almost exclusively. I continued to devour tons of provisions.
In Mame's eyes I remained a mere biped, more ruminant than ever.

"About a week after Collier pulled his freight there came a kind of
side-show to town, and hoisted a tent near the railroad. I judged it
was a sort of fake museum and curiosity business. I called to see Mame
one night, and Ma Dugan said that she and Thomas, her younger brother,
had gone to the show. That same thing happened for three nights that
week. Saturday night I caught her on the way coming back, and got to
sit on the steps a while and talk to her. I noticed she looked
different. Her eyes we