of　taking　him　up；　but　still　I　could　not　help　thinking　it　my　duty　to　put
  him　down。　The　habit　was　an　immoral　one；　and　so　I　told　him。　It　was　a　vulgar
  one…　this　I　begged　him　to　believe。　It　was　discountenanced　by　society
  here　I　said　nothing　but　the　truth。　It　was　forbidden　by　act　of　Congress
  here　I　had　not　the　slightest　intention　of　telling　a　lie。　I　remonstrated
  but　to　no　purpose。　I　demonstrated　　in　vain。　I　entreated　　he　smiled。　I
  implored　　he　laughed。　I　preached…　he　sneered。　I　threatened　　he　swore。
  I　kicked　him　　he　called　for　the　police。　I　pulled　his　nose　　he　blew　it；
  and　offered　to　bet　the　Devil　his　head　that　I　would　not　venture　to　try　that
  experiment　again。
  Poverty　was　another　vice　which　the　peculiar　physical　deficiency　of
  Dammit's　mother　had　entailed　upon　her　son。　He　was　detestably　poor；　and
  this　was　the　reason；　no　doubt；　that　his　expletive　expressions　about
  betting；　seldom　took　a　pecuniary　turn。　I　will　not　be　bound　to　say　that　I
  ever　heard　him　make　use　of　such　a　figure　of　speech　as　〃I'll　bet　you　a
  dollar。〃　It　was　usually　〃I'll　bet　you　what　you　please；〃　or　〃I'll　bet　you
  what　you　dare；〃　or　〃I'll　bet　you　a　trifle；〃　or　else；　more　significantly
  still；　〃I'll　bet　the　Devil　my　head。〃
  This　latter　form　seemed　to　please　him　best；　　perhaps　because　it　involved
  the　least　risk；　for　Dammit　had　become　excessively　parsimonious。　Had　any
  one　taken　him　up；　his　head　was　small；　and　thus　his　loss　would　have　been
  small　too。　But　these　are　my　own　reflections　and　I　am　by　no　means　sure　that
  I　am　right　in　attributing　them　to　him。　At　all　events　the　phrase　in
  question　grew　daily　in　favor；　notwithstanding　the　gross　impropriety　of　a
  man　betting　his　brains　like　bank…notes：　　but　this　was　a　point　which　my
  friend's　perversity　of　disposition　would　not　permit　him　to　comprehend。　In
  the　end；　he　abandoned　all　other　forms　of　wager；　and　gave　himself　up　to
  〃I'll　bet　the　Devil　my　head；〃　with　a　pertinacity　and　exclusiveness　of
  devotion　that　displeased　not　less　than　it　surprised　me。　I　am　always
  displeased　by　circumstances　for　which　I　cannot　account。　Mysteries　force　a
  man　to　think；　and　so　injure　his　health。　The　truth　is；　there　was　something
  in　the　air　with　which　Mr。　Dammit　was　wont　to　give　utterance　to　his
  offensive　expression　　something　in　his　manner　of　enunciation　　which　at
  first　interested；　and　afterwards　made　me　very　uneasy　　something　which；
  for　want　of　a　more　definite　term　at　present；　I　must　be　permitted　to　call
  queer；　but　which　Mr。　Coleridge　would　have　called　mystical；　Mr。　Kant
  pantheistical；　Mr。　Carlyle　twistical；　and　Mr。　Emerson　hyperquizzitistical。
  I　began　not　to　like　it　at　all。　Mr。　Dammits　soul　was　in　a　perilous　state。　I
  resolved　to　bring　all　my　eloquence　into　play　to　save　it。　I　vowed　to　serve
  him　as　St。　Patrick；　in　the　Irish　chronicle；　is　said　to　have　served　the
  toad；　　that　is　to　say；　〃awaken　him　to　a　sense　of　his　situation。〃　I
  addressed　myself　to　the　task　forthwith。　Once　more　I　betook　myself　to
  remonstrance。　Again　I　collected　my　energies　for　a　final　attempt　at
  expostulation。
  When　I　had　made　an　end　of　my　lecture；　Mr。　Dammit　indulged　himself　in　some
  very　equivocal　behavior。　For　some　moments　he　remained　silent；　merely
  looking　me　inquisitively　in　the　face。　But　presently　he　threw　his　head　to
  one　side；　and　elevated　his　eyebrows　to　a　great　extent。　Then　he　spread　out
  the　palms　of　his　hands　and　shrugged　up　his　shoulders。　Then　he　winked　with
  the　right　eye。　Then　he　repeated　the　operation　with　the　left。　Then　he　shut
  them　both　up　very　tight。　Then　he　opened　them　both　so　very　wide　that　I
  became　seriously　alarmed　for　the　consequences。　Then；　applying　his　thumb　to
  his　nose；　he　thought　proper　to　make　an　indescribable　movement　with　the
  rest　of　his　fingers。　Finally；　setting　his　arms　a…kimbo；　he　condescended　to
  reply。
  I　can　call　to　mind　only　the　beads　of　his　discourse。　He　would　be　obliged　to
  me　if　I　would　hold　my　tongue。　He　wished　none　of　my　advice。　He　despised　all
  my　insinuations。　He　was　old　enough　to　take　care　of　himself。　Did　I　still
  think　him　baby　Dammit？　Did　I　mean　to　say　any　thing　against　his　character？
  Did　I　intend　to　insult　him？　Was　I　a　fool？　Was　my　maternal　parent　aware；　in
  a　word；　of　my　absence　from　the　domiciliary　residence？　He　would　put　this
  latter　question　to　me　as　to　a　man　of　veracity；　and　he　would　bind　himself
  to　abide　by　my　reply。　Once　more　he　would　demand　explicitly　if　my　mother
  knew　that　I　was　out。　My　confusion；　he　said；　betrayed　me；　and　he　would　be
  willing　to　bet　the　Devil　his　head　that　she　did　not。
  Mr。　Dammit　did　not　pause　for　my　rejoinder。　Turning　upon　his　heel；　he　left
  my　presence　with　undignified　precipitation。　It　was　well　for　him　that　he
  did　so。　My　feelings　had　been　wounded。　Even　my　anger　had　been　aroused。　For
  once　I　would　have　taken　him　up　upon　his　insulting　wager。　I　would　have　won
  for　the　Arch…Enemy　Mr。　Dammit's　little　head　　for　the　fact　is；　my　mamma
  was　very　well　aware　of　my　merely　temporary　absence　from　home。
  But　Khoda　shefa　mid阧ed　　Heaven　gives　relief　　as　the　Mussulmans　say
  when　you　tread　upon　their　toes。　It　was　in　pursuance　of　my　duty　that　I　had
  been　insulted；　and　I　bore　the　insult　like　a　man。　It　now　seemed　to　me；
  however；　that　I　had　done　all　that　could　be　required　of　me；　in　the　case　of
  this　miserable　individual；　and　I　resolved　to　trouble　him　no　longer　with　my
  counsel；　but　to　leave　him　to　his　conscience　and　himself。　But　although　I
  forebore　to　intrude　with　my　advice；　I　could　not　bring　myself　to　give　up
  his　society　altogether。　I　even　went　so　far　as　to　humor　some　of　his　less
  reprehensible　propensities；　and　there　were　times　when　I　found　myself
  lauding　his　wicked　jokes；　as　epicures　do　mustard；　with　tears　in　my　eyes：
  so　profoundly　did　it　grieve　me　to　hear　his　evil　talk。
  One　fine　day；　having　strolled　out　together；　arm　in　arm；　our　route　led　us
  in　the　direction　of　a　river。　There　was　a　bridge；　and　we　resolved　to　cross
  it。　It　was　roofed　over；　by　way　of　protection　from　the　weather；　and　the
  archway；　having　but　few　windows；　was　thus　very　uncomfortably　dark。　As　we
  entered　the　passage；　the　contrast　between　the　external　glare　and　the
  interior　gloom　struck　heavily　upon　my　spirits。　Not　so　upon　those　of　the
  unhappy　Dammit；　who　offered　to　bet　the　Devil　his　head　that　I　was　hipped。
  He　seemed　to　be　in　an　unusual　good　humor。　He　was　excessively　lively　　so
  much　so　that　I　entertained　I　know　not　what　of　uneasy　suspicion。　It　is　not
  impossible　that　he　was　affected　with　the　transcendentals。　I　am　not　well
  enough　versed；　however；　in　the　diagnosis　of　this　disease　to　speak　with
  decision　upon　the　point；　and　unhappily　there　were　none　of　my　friends　of
  the　〃Dial〃　present。　I　suggest　the　idea；　nevertheless；　because　of　a　certain
  species　of　austere　Merry…Andrewism　which　seemed　to　beset　my　poor　friend；
  and　caused　him　to　make　quite　a　Tom…Fool　of　himself。　Nothing　would　serve
  him　but　wriggling　and　skipping　about　under　and　over　every　thing　that　came
  in　his　way；　now　shouting　out；　and　now　lisping　out；　all　manner　of　odd
  little　and　big　words；　yet　preserving　the　gravest　face　in　the　world　all　the
  time。　I　really　could　not　make　up　my　mind　whether　to　kick　or　to　pity　him。
  At　length；　having　passed　nearly　across　the　bridge；　we　approached　the
  termination　of　the　footway；　when　our　progress　was　impeded　by　a　turnstile
  of　some　height。　Through　this　I　made　my　way　quietly；　pushing　it　around　as
  usual。　But　this　turn　would　not　serve　the　turn　of　Mr。　Dammit。　He　insisted
  upon　leaping　the　stile；　and　said　he　could　cut　a　pigeon…wing　over　it　in　the
  air。　Now　this；　conscientiously　speaking；　I　did　not　think　he　could　do。　The
  best　pigeon…winger　over　all　kinds　of　style　was　my　friend　Mr。　Carlyle；　and
  as　I　knew　he　could　not　do　it；　I　would　not　believe　that　it　could　be　done　by
  Toby　Dammit。　I　therefore　told　him；　in　so　many　words；　that　he　was　a
  braggadocio；　and　could　not　do　what　he　said。　For　this　I　had　reason　to　be
  sorry　afterward；　　for　he　straightway　offered　to　bet　the　Devil　his　head
  that　he　could。
  I　was　about　to　reply；　notwithstanding　my　previous　resolutions；　with　some
  remonstrance　against　his　impiety；　when　I　heard；　close　at　my　elbow；　a
  slight　cough；　which　sounded　very　much　like　the　ejaculation　〃ahem！〃　I
  started；　and　looked　about　me　in　surprise。　My　glance　at　length　fell　into　a
  nook　of　the　frame　　work　of　the　bridge；　and　upon　the　figure　of　a　little
  lame　old　gentleman　of　venerable　aspect。　Nothing　could　be　more　reverend
  than　his　whole　appearance；　for　he　not　only　had　on　a　full　suit　of　black；
  but　his　shirt　was　perfectly　clean　and　the　collar　turned　very　neatly　down
  over　a　white　cravat；　while　his　hair　was　parted　in　front　like　a　girl's。　His
  hands　were　clasped　pensively　together　over　his　stomach；　and　his　two　eyes
  were　carefully　rolled　up　into　the　top　of　his　head。
  Upon　observing　him　more　closely；　I　perceived　that　he　wore　a　black　silk
  apron　over　his　small…clothes；　and　this　was　a　thing　which　I　thought　very
  odd。　Before　I　had　time　to　make　any　remark；　however；　upon　so　singular　a
  circumstance；　he　interrupted　me　with　a　second　〃ahem！〃
  To　this　observation　I　was　not　immediately　prepared　to　reply。　The　fact　is；
  remarks　of　this　laconic　nature　are　nearly　unanswerable。　I　have　known　a
  Quarterly　Review　non…plussed　by　the　word　〃Fudge！〃　I　am　not　ashamed　to　say；
  therefore；　that　I　turned　to　Mr。　Dammit　for　assistance。
  〃Dammit；〃　said　I