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"An' ye say Misther Appleton sint ye up to wor-rk in Moncrossen's camp?" The two were seated on the log bunk at the back of the sled while the Frenchman drove, keeping a fearful eye on the white wolf. For old man Frontenelle had been his uncle. "Yes, he told me to report here." "D'ye know Moncrossen?" "No." "Well, ye will, ag'in' shpring," Irish replied dryly. "What do you mean?" asked Bill.
"'N'dishtillery over a shpring, 'n' they blow a horn when the liquor runsh. 'N' then we had supper in Major Lewish's tavern. Major Lewis came in with roast pig on platter. You know roast pig, Davy?... 'N' Jackson pulls out's hunting knife n'waves it very mashestic.... You know how mashestic Jackson is when he wantshtobe?"
Faix, I thought onct the doughboys was nappin' too long, and ould Hell would be bullyin' away at ourselves. Now, thin, can we have a bite in paice? I'll shtart wid a few sausages, Brownie, and you may send in the shpring chickens wid some oyshters the second coorse. No!
"'N'dishtillery over a shpring, 'n' they blow a horn when the liquor runsh. 'N' then we had supper in Major Lewish's tavern. Major Lewis came in with roast pig on platter. You know roast pig, Davy? . . . 'N' Jackson pulls out's hunting knife n'waves it very mashestic. . . . You know how mashestic Jackson is when he wantshtobe?"
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