My pal Joe has been a bit poorly just lately, so yesterday I popped in for a while to cheer him up.
When I came down from his room, there was Joe's old woman waiting for me.
"Well, George," she says, "how do you think he's looking?"
Says I, "don't you worry about Joe—he's quite his old self again."
"You really think so?" says she.
"Not the slightest doubt," I tell her. "Why, when I left him he was blowing t'froth off his medicine!"
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.