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Brave fellows, 'tis suspicted they mistook th' explosion of lyddite f'r a Pathrick's Day procession an' wint acrost to take a look at it." "Murdher, but 'tis dhreadful to r-read about. We have to change all our conciptions iv warfare. Wanst th' field was r-red, now 'tis a br-right lyddite green. Wanst a man wint out an' died f'r his counthry, now they sind him out an' lyddite dyes him.
Ye'll r-read in th' pa-apers that 'Anton Boozinski, while crazed with ham an' eggs thried to kill his wife an' childher. On Pathrick's day ye'll see th' Dr.
'It's Choosdah, th' fourth iv July; Winsdah, th' eighth iv October, an' Thursdah, the sivinteenth iv March, he says. 'Pathrick's day, says th' sicrety iv state. 'Thrue f'r ye, says Woo. 'What year? says Jawn Hay. 'The year iv th' big wind, says Woo. 'Good, says John Hay, 'proceed with ye'er story. 'Here's th' letther, says Woo.
On'y I say this here, that 'tis a black disgrace to Chicago f'r to let th' likes iv thim thrapze about th' sthreets with their cheap ol' flags an' ribbons. Oh dear, oh dear, if Pathrick's Day on'y come some year on' th' twelfth day iv July! Where 'd they be, where 'd they be? "D'ye know things is goin' to th' dogs in this town, Jawn, avick? Sure they are, faith.
"Don't call me 'Misther," Willie said; "only quality calls me 'Misther' an' I don't like it it doesn't fit an honest stone breaker." The question was repeated and he said: "I wear a green ribbon on Pathrick's Day an' an orange cockade on th' Twelfth ov July, an' if th' ax m' why, I tell thim t' go t' h l!
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