Now I'd like a picter of the Lizy Ann, as she was, but May Jane won't hear to't.

What do you say, square ?' Arthur tingled to his finger tips at this familiarity from a man whom he detested, and whom he would like to turn from his door, but the man was in his house and in his private room, tilting back in a delicate Swiss chair, which Arthur expected every moment to see broken to pieces, and which finally did go down with a crash as the burly figure settled itself a little more firmly upon the frail thing.
'I'll be dumbed if I hain't, broke it all to shivers!' the terrified Peterkin exclaimed, as he struggled to his feet, and looked with dismay upon the _debris_.

'What's the damage ?' he continued, taking out his pocket-book and ostentatiously showing a fifty-dollar bill.
'Money cannot replace the chair, which once adorned the _salon_ of Madame De Stael,' Arthur said, 'Put up your purse, but for Heaven's sake, never again tip back in your chair.

It is a vulgar trick, of which no gentleman would be guilty.' Ordinarily, Peterkin would have resented language like this, but he was just now too anxious to curry favor with Arthur to show any anger, and he answered, meekly: 'That's so, square.

'Tain't good manners, and I know it, as well as the next one.