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Everyting dot he has dold you vas yoost de udder way; no bread, no meelk, no vegebubbles noddings of dis, not von leedle bit. I vill make von leest come to-morrow." "Did you go, Joppy?" inquired Stebbins. "DID I GO? Yes, back to the depot and on to Cologne. That night I ate two plates of sauerkraut, a slice of pork and a piece of cheese the size of my hand; slept like a top."
The Bostonian may have been a nuisance in one way, but he had kept the ball of conversation rolling had started it many times and none of the others could fill his place. Certain of his views became respected. "As dear old Joppy used to say," was a common expression, and "By Jove, he was right!" not an uncommon opinion.
He had started the crusade, he knew, and was personally responsible for the result. He had tried to arouse Joplin's obstinacy and had only aroused his fears. All he could do in reparation was to keep in touch with the exile and pave the way for his homecoming. If Joppy was ill, which he doubted, some of the German experts in whom the Bostonian believed would find the cause and the remedy.
"But we didn't think he'd take it as hard as that." "You didn't, didn't you! What DID you think he'd do? Didn't you see how sensitive and nervous he was? The matter with you fellows is that Joppy is a thoroughbred and you never saw one of his kind in your life.
"Never felt better in my life," protested Joplin. "No, I'll carry it not heavy " Then he quickened his pace they were all on their way back to the inn and overtook Stebbins and Schonholz. "Stebbins, old man " "Yes, Joppy." "What I told you last night is turning out just as I expected. Heart's been acting queer all morning and my epigastric nerve is very sensitive. Puddy says I look awful.
And all all, let me tell you, due to my observing a few scientific laws regarding hygiene which you men never seem to have heard of." Malone now rose to his feet, pewter mug in hand, and swept his eye around the table. "Bedad, you're right, Joppy," he said with a wink at Marny "food's the ruination of us all; drink is what we want. On yer feet, gintlemen every mother's son of ye!
You drank sterilized milk at blood temperature until you were five; chewed patent, unhulled wheat bread until you were ten, and since that time you've filled your stomach with husks proteids, and carbohydrates, and a lot of such truck isn't that what he calls em, Pudfut?" The Englishman nodded in assent. "And now just look at you, Joppy, instead of a forty-inch chest "
"Instead, I say, of a decent chest your shoulders crowd your breast-bone; your epigastric, as you call it it's your solar plexus, Joppy but that's a trifle to an anatomist like you your epigastric scrapes your back-bone, so lonely is it for something warm and digestible to rub up against, and your Why, Joppy, do you know when I look at you and think over your wasted life, my eyes fill with tears?
Joplin's discourse the night before was evidently lingering in their minds, for Pudfut broke out with: "Got to sit on Joppy some way or we'll be talked to death," and he squeezed a tube of color on his palette. "Getting to be a bloody nuisance." "Only one way to fix him," remarked Stebbins, picking up his mahlstick from the grass beside him. "How?" came a chorus. "Scare him to death."
Joplin played with his knife and made an attempt to nibble a slice of Tine's toast, but he made no reply. All the fight of every kind seemed to have been knocked out of him. "Better take Fizzenbad in, Joppy," remarked Pudfut in an undertone. "May do you a lot of good." "How far is it, Schonholz?" asked Joplin, ignoring the Englishman's suggestion.
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