“‘Tis a thundering big tooth, and I thought I would just stop and tell you; and the other will be out to-morrow at farthest. Good morning, I must go and tell the good news to the captain, for every body is glad to hear that the first tooth comes through without fits.” His club mate, not a whit more gifted than himself, stared at Mr. Bangs, as in very boyishness of heart he hopped off first on one foot, and then on the other, as children do. He wondered how a baby’s tooth should prevent any one from going to the wharf to see the famous steamboat Sea Serpent. “If the old goose thought he had a thundering big tooth coming through his own gums I should not wonder at it—but a baby’s tooth! as if they did not get teeth every day—there, he has met the captain; _he’ll_ smoke him with his baby tooth. I will go look at the steamboat Sea Serpent again.” “Hillo! captain, stop, will you?” said Mr. Bangs; “we have a tooth, and a thundering large white tooth it is.” “What! your little grand-daughter has a tooth at last—well, it has been long a coming; is it up or down?” For thirty-seven years Mr. Bangs had had evening intercourse with captain Muff, and till this morning he had never found out that he was a fool; and what was worse, as he said to himself, an old fool. Indignation kept him silent—forgot that he had a grandson when he had talked of it for six months! At length he burst out. “I presume it would make no difference to you, captain Muff,” said he, grinning hysterically, “if I had thirteen more daughters?” “No, why should it?” rejoined the sage captain, “I like girls. If my wife and your wife had not been girls when they were babies, I wonder where our wives would have been? You may be glad your little grandchild is a girl.” “Why, what a good for nothing old fat fool you are—that I must call you names in your old age,” said the enraged Christopher. “Your memory is very short this morning; have I not told you that my Christopher is a boy?” “No, I cannot forget what you tell me every day; but what has a boy to do with what you were telling me about a thundering large tooth. Does she grow?” “You are enough to make a man swear, you damned old goose,” said Mr. Bangs, in a huff—(too mad to pop off this time,) “to call Christopher _she_: man and boy,” said he to himself, as he turned sulkily away, “have I known captain Muff for sixty years, and I have but just found out what a disadvantage he has been to me; why he is but half witted.” Mr. Bangs turned homewards, fearing to find out more foolish old men among his club. He was anxious too, to see whether the other tooth had not got the start of him. The quiet, regular Mr. Bangs had become a nuisance. No one had ever suspected him of being _soft_, and but for this unlucky male child he might have “died as he lived, an excellent chemist, an honest man, and one of the best husbands in the world;” but if a weak man _will_ talk, people will find him out.