"No, I won't; I am tryin' to put on style, Samantha, and buy you
sunthin' stylish to eat."

"Wall, you needn't," sez I; "I have lost my appetite."

"Siberian Punch! Let him come on," sez Josiah; "if I can't use my fists
equal to any dum Siberian that ever trod shoe leather, then I'll give
in."

Then three wimmen giggled, and the waiters began to look mad and
troubled.

"English rifles"--wall, I shouldn't have thought they would have tried
that agin. No, trifles," sez he, a-lookin' closer at it.

"English trifles!--lions' tails and coronets, mebby--English trifles and
tutty-frutty. Do have some tutty-frutty, Samantha, it has such a stylish
sound to it, so different from good pork and beans and roast beef; I
believe you would enjoy it dearly.

"Waiter," sez he, "bring on some tutty-frutty to once."

The waiter approached cautiously, and made a motion to me, and touched
his forehead.

He thought he wuz crazy, and he whispered to me, "Is it caused by
drinkin'? or is it nateral and come on sudden--"

Josiah heard it, and answered out loud, "It wuz caused by style, by
bein' fashionable; my only aim has been to git my wife a fashionable