'Whin th' Prisidint, he says, 'called th' nation to ar-rms, he says, 'an' Congress voted fifty million good bucks f'r th' naytional definse, he says, 'Thomas Francis Dorgan, he says, 'in that minyit iv naytional pearl, says he, 'left his good job in the pipe-yard, he says, 'an' wint down to th' raycruitin' office, an' says, "How manny calls f'r volunteers is out?" he says.

Our old friend, Darby Hourigan, who dressed himself in rags for the occasion, then came forward; and, after pulling up the waistband of his breeches, and twisting his revolting features into what he designed for, but what no earthly being could suppose, a grin, he spoke as follows: "My lard, an' gintlemen o' the jury, it 'ud be a hard case if we suffered poor Misther Purcel and his two daicent, ginerous, kind-hearted sons, to be condimed 'idout a word at all in their definse.

Manny's th' time I've bent me proud neck to a decision iv a coort that lasted no longer thin it took th' lawyer f'r th' definse to call up another judge on th' tillyphone. A judge listens to a case f'r days an' hears, while he's figurin' a possible goluf score on his blotting pad, th' argymints iv two or three lawyers that no wan wud dare to offer a judgeship to.

But whin I read about these social affairs in Kentucky, I sometimes wish some spool cotton salesman fr'm Matsachoosets, who'd be sure to get kilt whin th' shootin' begun, wud go down there with a baseball bat an' begin tappin' th' gallant gintlemen on th' head befure breakfast an' in silf definse.

'All th' prom'nint saviors iv their counthry, he says, 'but mesilf, he says, 'is busy preparin' their definse, he says. 'I have no definse, he says; 'but I'm where they can't reach me, he says. 'Th' spoort is all out iv th' job; an', if ye don't come in an' jine th' tilin masses iv wage-wurrukers, he says, 'ye won't even have th' credit iv bein' licked in a gloryous victhry, he says.

Take us prisoners, an' rayceive us into ye'er gloryous an' well-fed raypublic, he says. 'Br-rave men, says Gin'ral Miles, 'I congratulate ye, he says, 'on th' heeroism iv yer definse, he says. 'Ye stuck manfully to yer colors, whativer they ar-re, he says. 'I on'y wondher that ye waited f'r me to come befure surrindhrin, he says. 'I welcome ye into th' Union, he says.

No more ixpinsive steel an' ir'n, but good ol' grass fr'm th' twinty-acre meadow. Th' ship-yards 'll be moved fr'm th' say, an' laid down in th' neighborhood iv Polo, Illinye, an' all th' Mississippi Valley 'll ring with th' sound iv th' scythe an' th' pitchfork buildin' th' definse iv our counthry's honor.