With a few great bounds Herr Schimmelpodt was close enough to reach out one of his big arms and lay hold of the fleeing clerk.

That clerk stopped suddenly, with a jolt.
"Vy don't you go on running, ain't it ?" demanded Herr Schimmelpodt.
A crowd formed about them.
The reason why the clerk didn't continue his running was a very good one.

One of the German's big hands encircled the clerk's thin arm like a bracelet of steel.

The clerk struggled, but he might as well have tried to break out of irons.
"You vant me to bractise running, so dot I gan catch you, eh ?" grunted the German.

"You vant me to eat breakfast sawdust for a dyspepsia vot I ain't got, huh?
You vant me to dake breathing eggsercises ven I can dake more air into my lungs, alretty, dan your whole body gan disblace?
You vant me to do monkey-tricks mit a dumb-pell, yen I gan do things like dis ?" Suiting the action to the word, Herr Schimmelpodt grasped the clerk by one shoulder and one thigh.