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Updated: May 3, 2025
'He's a Boohemian, he says. 'An' whin they come to ilictin' Boohemians f'r mayor, he says, 'I'll go back to me ol' thrade iv shovellin' mud, he says. 'Besides, says he, 'if this here Winter wint in, he says, 'ye cudden't stand acrost La Salle Street an' hand him a peach on a window pole, he'd be that stuck up, he says.
If it ain't a sthraight stick, it's a crooked wan; an' th' man was niver yet born, if he had a hump on his back as big as coal-scuttle an' had a face like th' back iv a hack, that cudden't get th' wink iv th' eye fr'm some woman. They're all alike, all alike.
"My house is so full iv books ye cudden't tur-rn around without stumblin' over thim. I found th' life iv an ex-convict, the 'Prisoner iv Zinders, in me high hat th' other day, where Mary Ann was hidin' it fr'm her sister. Instead iv th' chidher fightin' an' skylarkin' in th' evenin', they're settin' around th' table with their noses glued into books.
Th' English kept comin' an' the Boers kept movin' till they cudden't move anny further without bumpin' into th' Soodanese ar-rmy an' thin they settled down an' says they, 'This far shall we go, says they, bein' a rellijous people, 'an' divvle th' sthep further. An' they killed off th' irrelijous naygurs an' started in f'r to raise cattle.
He left Ding Dong, or whativer 'tis ye call it, an' says he, 'Thank Gawd, he says, 'I'm where no man can give me his idees iv how to r-run a quiltin' party, an' call it war, he says. An' so he sint a man down in a divin' shute, an' cut th' cables, so's Mack cudden't chat with him. Thin he prances up to th' Spanish forts, an' hands thim a few oranges.
Besides a warrant f'r a moke was the same as a letther iv inthroduction to th' warden iv th' pinitinchry. Th' on'y thing left f'r th' lawyer to do was to move f'r a new thrile an' afther he'd got two or three he thought ol' things was th' best an' ye do well to lave bad enough alone. He got so sick iv chicken he cudden't live on his fees an' he quit th' law an' wint into journalism.
Th' other lads that dies because they cudden't r-run away, not because they wudden't, they dies on their backs, an' calls f'r th' docthor or th' priest. It depinds where they're shot. "But, annyhow, no wan iv thim lads come back to holler because he was in th' war or to war again th' men that shot him. They wint to wurruk, carryin' th' hod 'r shovellin' cindhers at th' rollin' mills.
She was cut out to be an aldherman's wife, and it was worth goin' miles to watch her leadin' th' gran' march at th' Ar-rchy Road Dimmycratic Fife an' Dhrum Corps ball." "But there she stopped. A good woman an' a kind wan, she cudden't go th' distance. She had th' house an' th' childher to care f'r an' her eddy- cation was through with.
'But if ye had a bad mouth I'd go into coort an' wriggle out iv th' partnership because ye'ar a cantankerous old villain that no wan cud get on with, he says. 'If people knew they cudden't get away fr'm each other they'd settle down to life, just as I detarmined to like coal smoke whin I found th' collection wasn't big enough to put a new chimbley in th' parish house.
I say 'tis diff'rent with Willum Waldorf Asthor. His orig-inal sin was bein' bor-rn in New York. He cudden't do anything about it. Nawthin' in this counthry wud wipe it out. He built a hotel intinded f'r jooks who had no sins but thim iv their own makin', but even th' sight iv their haughty bills cud not efface th' stain.
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