I mean to say, when he suggested anything whatsoever he invariably wished to know what might be the matter with it. "Veesky-soda!" demanded Cousin Egbert of the serving person who now appeared, "and ask your driver to have one," he then urged his friend. The latter hereupon addressed the cabman who had now come up. "Vooley-voos take something!" he demanded, and the cabman appeared to accept.

As well as I know it now I knew then in my inmost soul that I should summon Mrs. Effie before matters went farther. "Beer is all I know how to say," suggested Cousin Egbert. "Leave that to me," said his new friend masterfully. "Where's the boy? Here, boy! Veesky-soda! That's French for high-ball," he explained. "I've had to pick up a lot of their lingo." Cousin Egbert looked at him admiringly.

Thereupon he took the chair I had vacated and beamed upon us, "Now that we're all home-folks, together once more, I would suggest a bit of refreshment. Boy, veesky-soda!" "I fancy so, sir," said Cousin Egbert, dreamily contemplating me as the order was served.

Cousin Egbert, who had been for some moments moving his lips without sound, here spoke: "I'm going to try it myself," he said. "Here, Charley, veesky-soda! He made me right off," he continued as the waiter disappeared. "Say, Jeff, I bet I could have learned a lot of this language if I'd had some one like you around."