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"No, thank you," said Phil. "I have eaten my dinner." "Won't you try a bit of bread and cold mate now?" she asked, hospitably. "You are very kind," said Phil, gratefully, "but I am not hungry. I only want to get away from Pietro." "Is that the haythen's name? Sure I niver heard it before." "It is Peter in English." "And has he got the name of the blessed St. Peter, thin? Sure, St.
Not that he was altogether a bad man, but his spirit of opposition was kindled, and he could not bear to yield to Dewey, whose contempt he understood and resented. His reply was, "I'm goin' to cut off the haythen's pigtail, whether or no. Give me them scissors, I tell you," and he gave a vicious twitch to the Chinaman's queue, which made Ki Sing utter a sharp cry of pain.
"What are you about?" repeated Richard Dewey, in a tone of authority. "I'm goin' to cut off the haythen's pigtail," answered the Irishman doggedly. "What for?" "I've said I'd do it, and I'll do it." "Well, Mr. O'Reilly, I've said you sha'n't do it, and I mean to keep my word."
Richard Dewey's eyes glittered sternly as he saw O'Reilly's intention, and he quietly advanced till he was within an arm's length of Ki Sing. "What do you mean to do, O'Reilly?" he demanded sternly. "None of your business!" retorted O'Reilly insolently. "It is going to be my business. What do you mean to do?" "Gut off this haythen's pigtail, and I'd just like to know who's going to prevent me."
"In New York." "And does Peter or whatever the haythen's name is live there too?" "Yes, Pietro lives there. The padrone is his uncle, and treats him better than the rest of us. He sent him after me to bring me back." "And what is your name? Is it Peter, like his?" "No; my name is Filippo." "It's a quare name." "American boys call me Phil." "That's better.
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