They begin to tell you when you're getting weaned away from a lobster palate and a stuffed-crab stomach, and when you get to the point where you want 'em on your regular bill of fare you'll find more fun in chopping down a tree than in going to a grand opera.

But the beans must be _cooked_ right, David--browned like a nut, juicy to the heart of 'em, and seasoned alongside a broiling duck or partridge, or a tender rabbit.
Ah!" The Little Missioner rubbed his hands ecstatically.
David's rejoinder, if one was on his lips, was interrupted by a violent cursing.

The train was well under way, and the baggage-man had sat down to a small table with his back toward them.

He had leaped to his feet now, his face furious, and with another demoniac curse he gave the coal skuttle a kick that sent it with a bang to the far end of the car.

The table was littered with playing cards.
"Damn 'em--they beat me this time in ten plays!" he yelled.