"What's the matter with you," asked a gentleman of a friend whom he met.
"You looked puzzled and worried."
"I am," said the friend. "Maybe you can help me out"
"Well, what is it?"
"I am subject at intervals," said the friend, "to the wildest craving
for beefsteak and onions. It has all the characteristics of a confirmed
drunkard's craving for rum. This desire came upon me a few minutes ago, and
I determined to gratify it. Then suddenly I remembered that I had promised
to call this evening on some ladies, and I must keep that promise. Yet my
stomach is shouting for beefsteak and onions, and I am wavering between
duty and appetite."
"Can't you wait until after the call?" asked the gentleman, solicitously.
"Never," said the friend, earnestly.
"Can't you postpone the call?"
"Impossible," declared the friend.
"Well," said the gentleman, "I'll tell you what to do: go to John
Chamberlin's café; order your beefsteak and onions, and eat them. When
you get your bill it will be so big that it will _quite take your breath
away_."