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Napolyeon Bonyparte, th' Impror iv th' Fr-rinch, had manny carryin's on, I've heerd tell; an' ivry man knows that, whin Jawn Sullivan wasn't in th' r-ring, he was no incyclopedja f'r intelligence. No wan thried to kiss him, though. They knew betther. "An' Hobson 'll larn. He's young yet, th' Loot is; an' he's goin' out to th' Ph'lippeens to wurruk f'r Cousin George.
It was years ago, durin' th' time iv Napolyeon, befure th' big fire? If I raymimber right, we had peas. Wasn't it a lovely night? Oh dear, oh dear, gintlemen iv th' press an' mon prisident, ye ought to have been there. Well, I says to Gin'ral Billot, I says, "Gin'ral," I says, "how ar-re ye, annyhow." An' the gin'ral replies, "F'r an ol' man, well."
'I tell ye here an' now, he says, 'they'se as good business men in th' quite counthry graveyards iv Kansas as ye can find in the palathial lunch- counthers iv Wall street, he says. 'Whin I see th' face iv that man who looks like a two-dollar pitcher iv Napolyeon at Saint Heleena, he says, 'I say to mesilf, ye shall not ye shall not' what th' divvle is it ye shall not do, Hinnissy?"
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