Scat my -- --! I looked gen'ally like an ab'lition orator before the war.

You never see such a mess," he added, with an expression of rueful recollection.

"I believe that dum'd egg held more 'n a pint." John fairly succumbed to a paroxysm of laughter.
"Funny, wa'n't it ?" said David dryly.
"Forgive me," pleaded John, when he got his breath.
"Oh, that's all right," said David, "but it wa'n't the kind of emotion it kicked up in my breast at the time.

I cleaned myself up with a towel well 's I could, an' thought I'd step out an' take the air before the feller 'd come back to git that tray, an' mebbe rub my nose in't." "Oh, Lord!" cried John.
"Yes, sir," said David, unheeding, "I allowed 't I'd walk 'round with my mouth open a spell, an' git a little air on my stomech to last me till that second breakfust; an' as I was pokin' 'round the grounds I come to a sort of arbor, an' there was Price, smokin' a cigar.
"'Mornin', Harum; how you feelin' ?' he says, gettin' up an' shakin' hands; an' as we passed the time o' day, I noticed him noticin' my coat.
You see as they dried out, the egg spots got to showin' agin.
"'Got somethin' on your coat there,' he says.
"'Yes,' I says, tryin' to scratch it out with my finger nail.
"'Have a cigar ?' he says, handin' one out.
"'Never smoke on an empty stomach,' I says.
"'What ?' he says.
"'Bad fer the ap'tite,' I says, 'an' I'm savin' mine fer that second breakfust o' your'n.' "'What!' he says, 'haven't you had anythin' to eat ?' An' then I told him what I ben tellin' you.

Wa'al, sir, fust he looked kind o' mad an' disgusted, an' then he laughed till I thought he'd bust, an' when he quit he says, 'Excuse me, Harum, it's too damned bad; but I couldn't help laughin' to save my soul.