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Updated: May 27, 2025
Listen: S'posin' just s'posin', moind yez Oi'm sayin' a man wid a bum leg was camped in th' shack av Melton's No. 8, an' th' harses in th' shtable. An' s'posin' some one shnaked in in th' noight an' stole th' harses on um an' druv 'em to Hilarity, an' waited f'r th' boss to sind f'r 'em.
Bring some more hairbs. Good-boi, an' bless ye. Oi hope it's no sin to say so, fur Oi know yer a Prattison an' ye are all on yez goin' to hell, but yer a foine bhoy. Oi'm tumble sorry yer a Prattison." When Yan got back to the Raftens' he found the dinner table set for one, though it was now three in the afternoon. "Come and get your dinner," said Mrs. Raften in her quiet motherly way.
"An' sure, yer anner, if Oi arn't broad enough in the chist, I make up for it by being taller for me age Bedad, Oi'm that, sor!" The doctor seemed tickled by this unanswerable piece of logic. "We'll see about that, Paddy," he said. "Trimmens, measure his height!" "Five feet five, sir," ejaculated the steward, after adjusting the sliding roll of the standard and reading the index.
Thin, faith, ye'll take ne'er a picter this day, for Oi'm jist afther usin' the last schrap av gilitin in the house to make the wine jilly fer the dinner." "I don't mean that kind of gelatine; the kind I use is already prepared on little plates in this box, and I have to go in the dark closet to fix them." "Faith, I'd fix thim out here, thin, where ye can see what ye're about.
Some buggers tried to do me in." "What d'you mean?" "Oi guess they had a little information...that's all. Oi'm carryin' important messages from our headquarters in Rouen to your president. Oi was goin' through a bloody thicket past this side.
"But Father Maloney said he'd be persecuted for bigummy if he did it, an' he'd have fur to do it himsilf; an' so, bad cess to it, fayther stuck the ind of his dhudeen in the ink-bottle, I'll take me oath, sor, an' soigned his name thare, sor, jist whare ye say it, wid his own hand, as Oi'm a livin' sinner!" "Well, well, Donovan, that's enough.
"You keep a saloon." "Yes. An' what ward do Oi live in?" "The sixth, don't you?" "Then," said Dennis, his upper lip twisting into a smile of enormous proportions, "Oi suppose yez afther thinkin' Oi'm a dirty black Republican." Peter laughed, as few could help doing, when Dennis led the way. "Look here, Dennis," he said, "don't you run down that party.
Caradoc lay dry and burning on the hot bunk, his big hands pressed to his forehead, eyes clenched shut. "I don't know what to do!" cried Madden miserably. "Hogan, Deschaillon, for God's sake, if you know anything about that medicine chest, tell me I'm not accusing anybody!" "Sure, sure," cried Hogan sympathetically, "Oi'm sorry Oi ain't got it.
"Faix, an' Oi'm glad ye said tay, fur Oi ain' seen a pick o' coffee sense Christmas, an' the tay Oi kin git in the woods, but thayer is somethin' Oi kin set afore ye that don't grow in the woods," and the old woman hobbled to a corner shelf, lifted down an old cigar box and from among matches, tobacco, feathers, tacks, pins, thread and dust she picked six lumps of cube sugar, formerly white.
"'Verily, says he, most solemnly, 'thou art of th' royal Bars! An' he made me a high officer, he did." "Was he the Bar Senestro?" asked Watson. "Nay; 'twas a far better man Senestro's brother, that died not long after. When Oi saw th' Senestro, Oi had sinse enough to kape me mouth shut. An' now Oi'm a high Bar next to th' Senestro hisself!
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