Keep him well under.

I have a high respect for cellar stairs, but they mustn't try to lead up to the roof.

Good-by.

Hail Newt! Senator that shall be!" laughed the General, as he shook hands and followed his fat nose out of the door.
Left to himself, Abel walked for some time up and down his room, with his hands buried in his pocket and a sneering smile upon his face.

He suddenly drew one hand out, raised it, clenched it, and brought it down heavily in the air, as he muttered, contemptuously, "What a stupid fool! I wonder if he never thinks, as he looks in the glass, that that fat nose of his is made to lead him by." For the sagacious and fat-nosed General had omitted to look at the little paper Newt handed to him, thinking it would be hardly polite to do so under the circumstances.