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Just say I'm a dimmycrat with sthrong raypublican leanings. Put it this way: I'm a dimmycrat, be a point raypublican, dimmycrat. Anny sailor man'll undherstand that. 'What'll I say ye'er platform is? 'Platform? 'Ye have to stand on a platform. 'I do, do I? Well, I don't. I'll stand on no platform, an' I'll hang on no sthrap. What d'ye think th'prisidincy is a throlley car?
He keeps me posted on what's goin' on in lithrachoor, an' I do th' same f'r him on crime. I've always got a little something that's excitin' comin' to me, but this time he's made good. It seems, ye see, that a good manny iv th' la-ads that write th' books have been lavin' th' route iv th' throlley line an' takin' to th' woods.
I am glad to know that Charles played tennis fr'm ten to iliven an' aftherward took a throlley car ride to Lynn, where he bought a pair iv shoes an' a piece iv blueberry pie, but at two o'clock had entirely recovered. But th' rale inthrest is in th' prisidint's goluf. Me fav'rite journal prints exthries about it. 'Specyal exthry; six thirty. Horrible rumor.
He's been in town long enough f'r to get out iv th' way iv th' throlley ca-ar whin th' bell rings. He's larned not to thry an' light his see-gar at th' ilicthric light. He doesn't offer to pay th' ilivator ma-an f'r carryin' him upstairs. He's got so he can pass a tall buildin' without thryin' f'r to turn a back summersault. An' he's as haughty about it as a new man on an ice-wagon.
He has sthrung a throlley acrost th' islands, an' he's climbin' mountains with his fleet. Th' on'y thing I see, Hinnissy, that Mack can do is to go east an' meet him comin' r-round. If he hurries, he'll sthrike him somewhere in Rooshia or Boohlgahria, an' say to him: 'George, th' war's over. Won't ye come home with me? I think he'll listen to reason."
They come in platoons an' squads an' dhroves. Some iv thirn brought along brass bands, an' more thin wan hundherd thousand iv thim dhruv through me pipes on dhrays. A throlley line was started up me back, an' ivry car run into a wagon-load iv scrap iron at th' base iv me skull. "Th' Mickrobes in me head must 've done thimsilves proud.
But suppose Thomas Jefferson was to come back here now an' say to himsilf: 'They'se a good dimmycrat up in Ar-rchy road an' I think I'll dhrop in on him an' talk over th' issues iv th' day. Well, maybe he cud r-ride his old gray mare up an' not be kilt be the throlley cars, an' maybe th' la-ads'd think he was crazy an' not murdher him f'r his clothes. An' maybe they wudden't.
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