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There's no discrimination at all atween black an' white. They're both of the same color so long as you keep your eyes shut." "But if a man happens to open his eyes, Dinny?" "He has no right to open them, Phadrick, if he wants to prove the truth of a thing. I should have said probe but it does not significate." "The heavens mark you to grace, Dinny. You did that in brave style.

"The dear help your head, Phadrick, if that's all you know about snow. In England, man, snow is an Oxford gray, an' in Scotland, a pepper an' salt, an' sometimes a cut-beard, when they get a hard winther. I found that much in the Greek, any way, Phadrick. Thry agin, you imigrant, I'll give you another chance what color is white?" "Why, thin, it's white an' nothin' else.

"Yis, Phadrick, I'll illusthrate your intellects by divinity. You see, Phadrick, you're to suppose me to be in the chair, as confessor. Very well, or valde, in the larned languages Parra Ghastha comes to confess to me, an' tells me that Barny Branagan wants to be paid for his goats. I tell him it's a disputed point, an that the price o' the goats must go to the church.

Now, Phadrick, listen, but keep your tongue sayin' nothin'; just lave us to ourselves. Come up, Dinny, till you have a hate at arguin' wid myself."

An' what is still more, he could, by shuttin' your eyes, in the same way prove black to be white, an' white black, jist as asy." "Surely myself doesn't doubt it. I suppose, by shuttin' my eyes, the same lad could prove anything to me." "But, Dinny, avourneen, you didn't prove Phadrick to be an ass yit. Will you do that by histhory, too, Dinny, or by the norrations of Illocution?"