[figure description] Page 146.[end figure description]

“Could n't you get young pork, ma'am, to bake
with your beans?” said old Roger, somewhat cynically,
as he sat at table one Sunday.

“They told me it was young!” said the landlady.

“Well, it may be so, but gray hair is not a juvenile
feature, by any means, in our latitude, ma'am,” continued
he, fishing up a gray hair, about a foot and a half
long, with his fork. “He may have been young, but
he must have lived a very wicked life to be gray so
soon.”

As he spoke he looked along the table, and a slight
emotion was visible among the boarders; and the man
who sat opposite, with his mouth full of the edibles with
which he had been endeavoring to smother a laugh, grew
dark with the effort, and then collapsed, scattering dismay
and crumbs amid the nicely-plaited folds of old
Roger's shirt-frills.

Spunk. — “I would n't be so bothered about my
meals” said a jour printer to a brother typo, who had
to wait pretty often for dinner that did n't pay for waiting;
“if I boarded out I 'd have my dinner — just as
soon as I could get it.”

p677-164

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