Can't ye stay for awhile--Till I've opened my head? So he's bin an' struck ile? Which the same's what _I_ said-- Fur I see him in _Fish outer Water_, and sez I (_sententiously_), "A Tragedian _bred_!" Yes, I allays allowed, As he must make a hit; And not at all proud--No, _Sir_--all on him grit! (_Affectionately._) Jess you wait till he hears _I_'m around, and you mark the reception I git! For us two were such chums As ye don't often find. Lord! the way it all comes Scrouging in on my mind!-- (_Abruptly._) This dern sun is that pesky an' strong, it's enough for to strike a man blind! (_Here you should convey the idea that this is a mere excuse for a not unmanly emotion; this is generally done by wiping the eye surreptitiously on the coat-sleeve._) A freehandeder cuss Never stepped on a street. Which he'd raise such a fuss, When we happened to meet-- I could see he'd be hurt in his feelins ef he warn't not allowed to stand treat! So he's managed to climb To the top of the tree! [_Homely, unselfish satisfaction._ But I'll bet every time--Big a boss as he be-- He remembers his pardner in Frisco--Yes, he don't forgit little old Me! [_This proudly, but tenderly._ (_Here the Sandwich-man is supposed to make some sort of assent. You turn upon him savagely, with an irritation assumed to conceal deep feeling._) What on airth do _you_ mean? By a' sayin' "_You're_ sure Of it." (_With half recognition._) Seems like I've seen Those yer featurs afore! [_Hand to chin, dubiously._ A mistake? (_Roughly._) Well then, _you_ hold yer hosses, and don't interrup' me no more! (_The Sandwich-man here makes another attempt to escape_; _you put out two detaining fingers._) Come, you ain't going yet? (_Heartily._) H'yur, you lem me run on! Why, we've on'y jest met--And you want to be gone! I must hev _some_ critter, I tell ye, to practise chin-music upon! No, theer don't seem a doubt--He is cock of the school; And the stuffing's knocked out Of your IRVING and TOOLE! [_Outburst of rapturous exultation._ Jest, to think o' JOPP busting up BARRETT!--thar, call me a soft-hearted fool! (_Second emotional display; half turn, and use your handkerchief with ostentation; the Sandwich-man is also affected, which you observe with some surprise._) Why, you _air_ lookin' queer! Derned ef _I_ kin see why! Sho! you thought 'twas a _tear_ As I've got in my eye? [_Rough shame at your own weakness._ No, _I_ don't take no stock in hydraulics--it's on'y a dod-gasted fly! [_Resume with a proud anticipation._ He'll be chipper an' smart.--But, fur all he has riz, He will open his heart _And_ a bottle of fizz Right away when he sees me! (_Here you seem to detect a lurking doubt in the Sandwich-man's eye._) Hightoned, Sir? You'd better believe that he _is_! _I_ ain't feared o' no change: JOPP'll be jest as _true_!