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"What in the name of common sense is the matter with you?" said he, gettin' up, an' shakin' the stoor aff his hat. "Man, ye shud keep aff the coorse," says I, forgettin' for the meenit whaur I was. "I was tryin' to brak' the record." "Break the record!" he says, in a most terrible fizz. "If it wasna for the laws of the country, I'd break your head."
When he returned to the front room the Indian was still there. "Any spare cartridges? I'm about cleaned out. Jes' two left. Gotta save them." Mahon dropped a dozen in the extended hand. The Indian worked with them in the darkness for a moment and slammed them on the table with a curse. "Shud 'a' knowed they wudn't fit. Where's Torrance's?"
They was another young la-ad r-runnin' in fr-front iv Dorgan; an', as fast as wan iv th' Christyan Brothers come up an' got in th' way, this here young Saint Aloysius grabbed him be th' hair iv th' head an' th' sole iv th' fut, an' thrun him over his shoulder. 'What's that la-ad doin'? says I. 'Interferin', says he. 'I shud think he was, says I, 'an' most impudent, I says.
There's not much doing at the ranch just now, so, if you've no objection, I'll put Silver along with your team and come with you. As you say we've simply got to get this fellow, somehow." "Thank ye, Mr. Gully," responded Slavin gratefully, "betune th' bunch av us we shud nail th' shtiff all right." "Should!" agreed the magistrate, enigmatically, "'stiff's' the word for him."
Sell thim gin, says I. ''Tis shameful they shud go out with nawthin' to hide their nakedness, he says. 'I'll fetch thim clothes; but, he says, cas th' weather's too war-rum f'r clothes, I'll not sell thim annything that'll last long, he says. 'If it wasn't f'r relligion, he says, 'I don't know what th' 'ell th' wurruld wud come to, he says. 'Who's relligion? says th' Fr-rinchman.
'I'm not thinkin' of the treason; though you shud be glad any honest boys drank with you. It's for the regiment. We can't have the shame o' you bringin' shame on us. You went to the doctor quiet as a sick cat to get and stay behind an' live with the women at the depot you that wanted us to run to the sea in wolf-packs like the rebels none of your black blood dared to be!
'Tis an outrage that this here man shud come here f'r to insult th' head iv th' fam'ly. 'Th' head iv what fam'ly? says Morgan Dooley, jumpin' up as hot as fire. 'I'm th' head iv th' fam'ly, he says, 'be right iv histhry. 'Ye're an ol' cow, says me uncle Mike. 'Th' back iv me hand an' th' sowl iv me fut to all iv ye, he says. 'I quit ye, he says.
Then he suddenly stopped, shook his head again, and said, "If I goes on like this, an' it shud turn out to be the wrong course arter all wot'll come on't?" Being as unable to answer this question as the former, he thrust both hands into his pockets, looked at the ground and began to whistle.
'Hurroo, hurroo, he says, lammin' th' man fr'm Iaway with his goold-headed cane. 'What ails ye, man alive? says I. 'Why, he says, 'they've nommynated Billy, he says. 'Billy who? says I. 'Why, Willum J. O'Brien, he says. "'A sthrong man, says he, addhressin' th' man fr'm Iaway. 'I shud say he was, says th' man. 'Th' sthrongest man that iver come down th' road, says Hinnissy.
"Napolyon Bonypart, impror iv th' Fr-rinch, was far too gay aven f'r thim friv'lous people, an' had fits. His first wife was no betther than she shud be, an' his second wife didn't care f'r him. Willum Shakespeare is well known as an author of plays that no wan can play, but he was betther known as a two-handed dhrinker, a bad actor, an' a thief.
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