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He'd been breakfastin' an' lunchin' ever since we'd come in, an' he was as full as a tick. "Faith ye've got dhrunk mighty soon, he sez, whin I'd tould him, 'to see that man walk. Barrin' a puff or two av life, he was a corpse before we left Jumrood. I've a great mind, he sez, 'to confine you. "There's a dale av liquor runnin' about, docthor, I sez, solemn as a hard-boiled egg.
Th' entire popylace attinded, with pork chops in their buttonholes to show their pathreetism. Th' nex' day, afther breakfastin' with Mayor Casey, he set out on his weary march over th' r-rough, flower-strewn paths f'r San Joon.
He used to spin a lot o' yarns about the Siberian wolves runnin' in packs an' breakfastin' freely off travelers. But he seemed to think that it was the horses the wolves were after chiefly, although they weren't passin' up any toothsome peasant that happened along." "And do wolves attack horses here, too?" "Not on the trail, that fashion. But they're some partial to colts." "How about coyotes?"
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