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They was th' cruiser 'Box Stall, full armored with sixty-eight bales iv th' finest grade iv chopped feed; th' 'R-red Barn, a modhern hay battleship, protected be a whole mow iv timothy; an' th' gallant little 'Haycock, a torpedo boat shootin' deadly missiles iv explosive oats.
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.
I will go to bed an' think it over." I wint to bed. "Cap Dhryfuss is guilty," I cried. But no, I will confirm me ividince. I darted into me r-red pants. She projoosed a pack iv cards. She tur-rned a r-red king an' a black knave. "Th' Impror Willum an' Cap Dhryfuss," I says, in a fury. I burst forth. I had Cap Dhryfuss arristed. I dashed to th' prisident.
Th' on'y problem in Ar-rchey r-road is how manny times does round steak go into twelve at wan dollar-an-a-half a day. But east iv th' r-red bridge, Hinnissy, wan iv th' most cryin' issues iv th' hour is: What shall we do with our hired help? An' if Congress don't take hold iv it we ar-re a rooned people."
'What a crime, he says, 'that th' men who ar-re takin' most iv th' money out iv th' counthry shud not be allowed to stick in anny iv th' votes, he says. 'We have, as Shakespeare says, put our hand to th' plough, he says, 'an' we cannot turn back, he says. 'I agree corjally with th' noble lord on th' r-red lounge abaft me, says Lord Salisbury.
An' wanst or twict in th' month th' dogs'd come yelpin' acrost our little place, with lads follerin' afther in r-red coats; f'r this Dorsey was a gr-reat huntsman, bad scran to his evil face. "He had th' r-reputation iv bein' a good landlord so long as th' crops come regular.
He's got to have a wife at home to make him oncomfortable if he comes in dhrunk, he's got to have little prattlin' childher that he can't sind to th' Young Ladies' academy onless he stuffs a ballotbox properly, an' he's got to have a sthrong desire f'r to live in th' av'noo an' be seen dhrivin' downtown in an open carredge with his wife settin' beside him undher a r-red parasol.
Th' expedition was delayed be wan iv th' mules sthrollin' down to th' shore an' atin' up th' afther batthry an' par-rt iv th' ram iv th' 'R-red Barn' an', befure repairs was made, Admiral Cervera heerd iv what was goin' on. 'Glory be to the saints, he says, 'what an injaynious thribe these Yankees is! says he.
They'se nawthin' ye can tell him. He thinks iv himsilf goin' back to Canton with a r-red necktie on, an' settin' on a cracker box an' tellin' th' lads whin they come in fr'm pitchin' hor-rseshoes what a hot time he's had, an' how he's seen th' hootchy-kootchy an' th' Pammer House barber shop, an' th' other ondacint sights iv a gr-reat city.
'Look here, says he, 'ye pizenous riptile, he says, 'if ye don't lave me counthryman out iv th' bull-pen in fifteen minyits be th' watch, he says, 'I'll take ye be th' hair iv th' head an' pull ye fr'm th' corner iv Halsted Sthreet to th' r-red bridge, he says. 'Lave us debate this, says Blanco. 'I'll debate nawthin', says Fitz. 'Hurry up, or I'll give ye a slap, he says.
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