“William,” he said, “it was my intention to give you a large tip. You have been very faithful and attentive, William. I have no fault to find with you on that account; but you are expensive. You permitted Mr. Too-much-gaul to ruin my repast, and then you failed to present him with the check. That being the case, I shall deduct the amount of the check from the tip I contemplated making you, which leaves you exactly seventy-five cents indebted to me. Do you wish to pay it now, or shall I let it stand against you?” The waiter was too astonished to reply, and before he could recover Wiley had teetered out with Abe at his side. CHAPTER XXIII. WHAT HAPPENED TO ABE. “Abe,” said the sailor, as they reached the street, “I entertain palpitating fears that I shall never place my lily-white hands on the balance due me from William. I am afraid he will not settle. I shall have to charge it up to profit and loss.” “Why, cap’n,” said the boy wonderingly, “I believe he expected you to give him something. I think he was disappointed.” "Haven’t a doubt of it, my boy; but this world is full of bitter disappointments. I have encountered a number of them in my time. A person gets used to it after a while. Disappointments roll from me like water off a duck’s back. Once on a time they filled me with bitterness, and heartburning, and other painful emotions too numerous to mention. Once on a time I had a girl who threw me down for a homelier chap. Abe, it then seemed that for me the sun had eternally set and Stygian night lay spread before me for all time. I even thought of taking a shotgun and discharging it into that vacuum where my brains are supposed to be. I longed to rest in my cold, cold grave, where all would be peace, and silence, and relief. In my mind’s eye I saw above me a little mound of earth, with daisies, forget-me-nots, hollyhocks, cowslips, and other aristocratic flowers growing all over it. I saw the cruel, cruel girl weeping above that mound, and it gave me untold satisfaction. “The only thing that saved me from destruction was my thirst. I was seized by an awful thirst, and when I had quenched it I felt a great deal better. What I drank helped me to forget my sorrows, and the next day I had another girl. As I inspected this other girl with my critical eye, I arrived at the conclusion that she just about knocked the spots off number one. And ever since that time I have faced disappointments with philosophical complaisance, firm in my belief that every disappointment and fizzle I made is simply a blessing in disguise. That’s why I stroll through life with such serene urbanity. That’s why I smile in the face of the finger of scorn and the tongue of gossip. Excuse me if my metaphor is slightly mixed.” “What are you talking about, anyway, captain?”