“My fren’, Mr. Rudnose, Hamilton⁠—shake han’s.”

The stately butler bowed his head, but made not a sound; and suddenly Master Freddie pointed an eager finger at him. “I know whuzzamatter wiz you, Hamilton⁠—lay you a dollar I know! You think⁠—hic⁠—you think I’m drunk! Hey, now?”

And the butler again bowed his head. “Yes, sir,” he said, at which Master Freddie hung tightly upon Jurgis’s neck and went into a fit of laughter. “Hamilton, you damn ole scoundrel,” he roared, “I’ll ’scharge you for impudence, you see ’f I don’t! Ho, ho, ho! I’m drunk! Ho, ho!”