United States or San Marino ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He had some houses near Halsted Sthreet, an' I've see him servin' five days' notices on his tenants whin' th' weather was that cold ye cudden't see th' inside iv th' furnace-rooms at th' mill f'r th' frost on th' window. Of all th' landlords on earth, th' Lord deliver me fr'm an' Irish wan.
"He had a house back iv my place, he ownded th' fifty feet frontin' on Grove Sthreet, bought it fr'm a man named Grogan, an' 'twas rinted be a widdy lady be th' name iv Sullivan, wife iv a bricklayer iv th' same name. He was sthridin' into th' Widow Sullivan's house; an' says he, 'Mistress Sullivan, he says.
But this a steamboat! this great three-storied wooden edifice, massive-looking as a terrace of houses! 'An' a hole in the side for a hall-door! soliloquized Andy. 'No, but two holes, one for the quality an' the other for the commonality. An' no deck at all at all for the people to take the air, only all cabins intirely! If it isn't the very dead image of a side of a sthreet swimmin' away!
Something must've happened to him. Maybe he's lost his job. There ar-re a gr-reat manny noises in th' sthreet. Th' undertaker whistles as he goes by, an' two iv th' neighbors ar-re at th' gate sayin' what a fine man ye were if ye didn't dhrink, an' askin' did ye leave much. "An' little ye care. Everything is a millyon miles away fr'm ye. F'r th' first time in ye'er life ye're alone.
We've been stringin' ropes across th' sthreet f'r th' people iv Saint Looey f'r thirty years an' handin' thim bricks fr'm th' chimbleys whiniver we got a chance, but we've on'y got wurruds an' loose change f'r thim whin th' hard times comes." "Yes," said Mr. McKenna, "I see even the aldhermen has come to the front, offering relief." "Well," said Mr.
'He'd go in an' lame thim with th' Revised Statutes. 'I presume, says th' lad, 'that ye'er fr'm Omaha. 'I'll tear ye'er hair out, says Hinnissy. "'Ye idjit, says I, whin I had him in th' sthreet, 'it wasn't Bill O'Brien was nommynated, says I. 'What ar-re ye talkin' about? says he. 'I seen him on th' flure, he says.
In pa-ants. Oh, th' shame iv it! Ivry wan on th' sthreet stopped f'r to yell. Little Julia Dorgan called out, 'Who stole Molly's dhress? Ol' man Murphy was settin' asleep on his stoop. He heerd th' noise, an' woke up an' set his bull tarrier Lydia Pinkham on her. Malachi Dorsey, vice-prisident iv th' St. Aloysius Society, was comin' out iv th' German's, an' see her.
"'Mon colonel, says a former minister iv th' Fr-rinch governmint, who was th' polisman at th' dure, 'Judge Crazy th' Boorepare is here, demandin' to be heard. "'Gr-reat hivins! says th' coort; an' they wint out through th' windows. "That night they was gr-reat excitement in Rennes. Th' citizens dhrivin home their cows cud har'ly make their way through th' excited throngs on th' sthreet.
To march well, a man's feet have to be mates; an', if he has two left feet both runnin' sideways, he ought to have interference boots to keep him fr'm settin' fire to his knees. Whin a man walks as if he expected to lave a leg stuck in th' sthreet behind him, he has th' gait proper f'r half-past six o'clock th' avenin' before pay-day.
"Who should I meet in the sthreet this mornin' an' me here a week but Patrick Kinsella, big as a house and his face all covered in whiskers him that I took into me own home the night they cracked his skull up beyant the hill when O'Brien came to talk to us." "'What are yer doin' here at all? sez I. 'Faith, it's the foine thing I'm in, sez he.
Word Of The Day