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Such a man, I am sure, was the dhriver of my cyar, who may readily be identified. His physiognomy is very like the railway map of Ireland, coloured red, with the rivers and mountain ranges in dark-blue or plum-colour. As a means of ready reference he would be invaluable in the House of Commons. How interesting to see Mr. The G.O.M. would find the Kerry member invaluable.
'Tis a foolish man, he says,'that throws a hunk iv coal fr'm his own window at th' dhriver iv a brick wagon, he says." "But with Billy Bryan 'tis diff'rent. He's out in Lincoln, Neebrasky, far fr'm home, an' he says to himsilf: 'Me throat is hoarse, an' I'll exercise me other fac'lties, he says. 'I'll write a platform, he says.
An' they bust in th' dure an' th' Sultan puts a shirt an' a couple iv collars into a grip an' selicts iliven iv his least formid-able wives to go along with him an' they put on their bonnets an' shawls an' carry out their bur-rd cages an' their goold fish an' their fancy wurruk an' th' pathrol wagon starts off an' has to stop so that iliven iv thim can go back an' get something they f'rgot at th' last moment an' th' ex-commander iv th' faithful says, 'Did ye iver know wan iv thim to be ready, Cap? an' th' captain says, 'They're all alike, Doc, an' th' dhriver clangs th' bell, an' off goes th' mighty potentate to a two-story frame house in Englewood.
It was raaly a brillyant shot. A foot nearer th' ball an' he might have accomplished a feat in golufing histhry. But th' luck iv war was against him an' he sthruck himsilf upon th' ankle. Th' prisidint, resolvin' to give him no mercy, took his dhriver an' made a sterling carry to within thirty yards iv th' green. There was now nawthin' to it.
"Bad night, Jawn," said Mr. Dooley. "It is that," said Mr. McKenna. "Blowin' an' storming', yes," said Mr. Dooley. "There hasn' been a can in tonight but wan, an' that was a pop bottle. Is the snow-ploughs out, I dinnaw?" "They are," said Mr. McKenna. "I suppose Doherty is dhrivin'," said Mr. Dooley. "He's a good dhriver. They do say he do be wan iv the best dhrivers on th' road.
I've heerd that th' prisident is dead gawn on him. He's me cousin. Ye can't tell much about what a man 'll be fr'm what th' kid is. That there Doherty was th' worst omadhon iv a boy that iver I knowed. He niver cud larn his a-ah-bee, abs. But see what he made iv himsilf! Th' best dhriver on th' road; an', by dad, 'tis not twinty to wan he won't be stharter befure he dies.
By token I ad seen a dhriver of a batthery goin' by at a trot singin' 'Home, swate home' at the top av his shout, and takin' no heed o his bridle-hand I had seen that man dhrop under the gun in the middle of a word, and come out by the limber like like a frog on a pave-stone. No. I wud not hurry, though, God knows, my heart was all in Pindi.
"'Gharri dhriver here, dhrunk, sorr, sez I; 'I've found his gharri sthrayin' about cantonmints, an' now I've found him. "'Oh! sez the Capt'n; 'fwhat's his name? I stooped down an' pretended to listen. "'He sez his name's Jungi, sorr, sez I.
"Gharri dhriver here, dhrunk, Sorr," sez I; "I've found his gharri sthrayin' about cantonmints, an' now I've found him." "Oh!" sez the Capt'n; "fwhat's his name?" I stooped down an' pretended to listen. "He sez his name's Jungi, Sorr," sez I.
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