The dentist took the trouble to ascertain that there was a decent supply of ink in the green-glass apple, and that the pens were in working order.

Then he went quietly back to his seat by the bedside and waited.
The invalid opened his eyes presently, and recognised his friend with a feeble smile.
"Well, Tom, old fellow, how do you feel to-day--a little better I hear from Mrs.H.," said the dentist cheerily.
"Yes, I think I am a shade better.

But, you see, the deuce of it is I never get more than a shade better.

It always stops at that.

The little woman can't complain of me now, can she, Sheldon?
No more late hours, or oyster suppers, eh ?" "No, no, not just yet.