It's not the fifty you owe me,--pay it or not when you like,--but it's the every-day pace, and I tell you it will kill you.

You're livin' as if there was no end to the money in the stockin' at home.

You oughtn't to give dinners, you ought to eat 'em.

Fellows are glad to have you.

You oughtn't to owe horse bills, you ought to ride other chaps' nags.