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I wish ye much success as ye climb th' lather iv fame. Th' invintor is thin dhrawn ar-roun' th' sthreets iv Paris in a chariot pulled be eight white horses amid cries iv 'Veev Higgins, 'Abase Castile, et cethra, fr'm th' populace. An' manny a heart beats proud in Goshen that night. That's th' way ye think iv it, but it happens diff'rent, Hinnissy.

'Twas good f'r to see thim settin' ar-roun' th' parlor, Terence spellin' out th' newspaper, an' his good woman mendin' socks, an' Honoria playin' th' 'Vale iv Avoca' on th' pianny, an' th' kids r-rowlin' on th' flure. "But wan day it happened that that whole fam'ly begun to rasp on wan another.

'twuddent surprise me if whin they got through batin' us at home, they might say to thimsilves: 'Well, here goes f'r a jaunt ar-roun' the wurruld. Th' time may come, Hinnissey, whin ye'll be squirtin' wather over Hop Lee's shirt while a man named Chow Fung kicks down ye'er sign an' heaves rocks through ye'er windy. The time may come, Hinnissy. Who knows?" "End ye'er blather," said Mr. Hennessy.

Supposin' ye took out iv a newspaper all th' murdhers, an' suicides, an' divorces, an elopements, an' fires, an' disease, an' war, an' famine, he says, 'ye wudden't have enough left to keep a man busy r-readin' while he rode ar-roun' th' block on th' lightnin' express.

I put him on his back an' bate him to death. An' thin I help mesilf to his watch an' chain an' me frinds come down an' say, 'Martin, ye haven't a scratch, an' con- grathlate me, an' I wandher ar-roun' th' sthreets with a chip on me shoulder till I look down an' see that I haven't a stitch on me but a short shirt. An' thin I wake up.