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It was years ago, durin' th' time iv Napolyeon, befure th' big fire? If I raymimber right, we had peas. Wasn't it a lovely night? Oh dear, oh dear, gintlemen iv th' press an' mon prisident, ye ought to have been there. Well, I says to Gin'ral Billot, I says, "Gin'ral," I says, "how ar-re ye, annyhow." An' the gin'ral replies, "F'r an ol' man, well."
"Well, wan night, th' fellow was settin' down f'r a bite to eat with Lady O , an' Lady S , an' Lady G , an' Lady Y , an' other ladies that had lost their names, an' says wan iv thim, 'Cap, she says, 'ar-re ye goin' to Asthor's doin's tonight? she says. 'Not that I know iv, says th' Cap. 'He hasn't sint me anny wurrud that I'm wanted, he says. 'What differ does it make, says th' lady.
I hope she'll marry well. By an' by whin th' roses fade fr'm our cheeks an' our eye is dimmed with age we bow to th' inivitable, run down th' flag iv defiance, an' ar-re yanked into th' multichood iv happy an' speechless marrid men that look like flashlight pitchers. Th' best-lookin' iv us niver get marrid at all. "Yes, Sir, there's no doubt we do a good deal to beautify th' landscape.
An' does annywan thry to interfere with Hadji? Does annywan say 'Hadji, ye'll have to abandon two or three hundherd iv ye 'er firesides. Ye ar-re livin' jus' inside th' left field fince iv our domain an' 'tis a rule iv th' game that we've taken ye into that no wan shall have more thin wan wife at a time that annywan knows iv.
'Th' raypublicans ar-re in favor iv expansion. 'Thin I'm a raypublican. 'Th' dim-mycrats ar-re in favor iv free thrade. 'Thin I'm a dimmycrat. 'Th' raypublicans ar-re f'r upholdin' th' goold standard. 'So'm I. I'm a raypublican there. 'An' they're opposed to an income tax. 'On that, says Cousin George, 'I'm a dimmycrat. I tell ye, put me down as a dimmycrat. Divvle th' bit I care.
All th' pathrites an', as th' pa-apers call thim, th' high-priests iv this here sacred rite, ar-re smokin' th' best seegars that th' token money iv our counthry can buy. "In th' pleasant warmth iv th' fire, th' harness on th' walls glows an' puts out its own peculiar aromy.
They're all occypied be writhin' freemen, callin' in sthrangled voices f'r somewan to light th' candle so they'll be sure they ain't votin' th' prohybition ticket. Th' calico sheets over th' front iv th' booths wave an' ar-re pushed out like th' curtains iv a Pullman car whin a fat man is dhressin' inside while th' thrain is goin' r-round a curve.
About th' time Mars was r-ready to quit an' go home to do th' Spring plowin', Backis handed him a jigger iv kerosene an' says: 'That fellow over there is leerin' at ye. Ar-re ye goin' to stand that? an' Mars bustled in. Th' barkeeper an' th' banker ar-re behind ivry war. "Well, in former times th' Governmint kept a saloon f'r th' sojers.
I don't like foreigners there anny more thin I do here. Along comes a bald-headed man with chin whiskers from Baraboo, Wisconsin, an' says he: 'Benighted an' haythen Dooley, says he, 'ye have no God, he says. 'I have, says I. 'I have a lot iv thim, says I. 'Ye ar-re an oncultivated an' foul crather, he says.
But San Francisco has had a pretty good bump lately an' wud hardly tur-rn over in its sleep f'r an invasion. Out there they're beginnin' to talk about what nice people th' Chinese ar-re compared with our old frinds an' allies.
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