As a final inducement, the Professor took a five-cent piece out of his pocket, and bent it to show the strength of his fingers. He said he didn't do it for everyone—whether on account of the wear and tear on his fingers or on five-cent pieces, he left to the imagination. He also made us feel his biceps and watch the expansion of his chest, all acquired by carefully following out the directions on the chart—five dollars!—and also the third course and secret advice, which we would have to swear not to communicate—ten dollars!
"Oi'll tell ye the secret soign possessed by all the strongest min in the world," he assured us, "not only proize-foighters and wrastlers, but great doctors and artists as well. Oi'll tell it to ye so ye can pick thim out on the street. That's part of the secret advoice."
But we refused to rise to the bait. As a result we are still unable to tell a "wrastler" on the street from a drug-clerk, or a "proize-foighter" from a country curate.
We entrusted a two-dollar bill to the Professor's care. We thanked him for the information he had given us. Then we came sadly away, wondering vaguely how much was the fare to Nay-tawl.
Warwick Bro's & Rutter, Limited,
Printers and Bookbinders, Toronto, Canada.
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IMPERFECTLY PROPER ***