"I was reading about poison getting into the coffee at this hotel last week.
But, of course--" "Did da got poison py der coffee in here ?" demanded Hans.
"To be sure, put--" "How vos dot poisoned coffee taste annahow ?" "I'm sure I don't know." "I think it was a little salty," came from Fred Garrison.
"Mine cracious me! Of dot's so I vos poisoned, sure.

Run for der toctor kvick!" "Here, eat some jam, Hans.

That will counteract the effect of the poison," said Tom, and handed over a small dish with jam in it, over which he had just sprinkled the pepper with an exceedingly liberal hand.
Anxious to do anything that would stop him from being poisoned, the German boy clutched the dish and took a large spoonful of the jam.

But as he gulped it, he gave a gasp, and the tears started down his cheeks.
"_Du meine zeit!_" he bawled.

"I vos purnt up alife by mine mouth alretty! Dake it avay kvick!" And jumping up from the table he began to dance around madly.
"It's a serious case," said Tom.