Joseph deposited his _calas_ with these things and made haste to produce a chair, which his visitor, as usual, declined.
"Idd you' bregfuz, m'sieu'." "I can do that afterward," said Frowenfeld; but the landlord insisted and turned away from him to look up at the books on the wall, precisely as that other of the same name had done a few weeks before.
Frowenfeld, as he broke his loaf, noticed this, and, as the landlord turned his face to speak, wondered that he had not before seen the common likeness.
"Dez stog," said the sombre man.
"What, sir?
Oh!--dead stock?
But how can the materials of an education be dead stock ?" The landlord shrugged.

He would not argue the point.

One American trait which the Creole is never entirely ready to encounter is this gratuitous Yankee way of going straight to the root of things.
"Dead stock in a mercantile sense, you mean," continued the apothecary; "but are men right in measuring such things only by their present market value ?" The landlord had no reply.

It was little to him, his manner intimated; his contemplation dwelt on deeper flaws in human right and wrong; yet--but it was needless to discuss it.

However, he did speak.
"Ah was elevade in Pariz." "Educated in Paris," exclaimed Joseph, admiringly.