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Updated: June 21, 2025
Whin all me marrid frinds is off to wurruk pound in' th' ongrateful sand an' wheelin' th' rebellyous slag, in th' heat iv th' afthernoon, ye can see ye'er onfortchnit bachelor frind perambulatin' up an' down th' shady side iv th' sthreet, with an umbrelly over his head an' a wurrud iv cheer fr'm young an' old to enliven his loneliness." "But th' childher?" asked Mr. Hennessy slyly.
Robert. And he had a worse attack than I did. "Torchy," says he, wheelin' around halfway to his office, "ring up Pier Umpty-nine and find out when that blasted steamer is due." "The Kaiser boat?" says I. "She'll dock about two-forty-five." "Eh?" says he, some startled. "Now, how the Never mind, though. Sure about the time, are you?" "Yep," says I. "Dash it all!" says he. "That's Marjorie, though!
And then he knows they have arrms wid 'em and are 'hostiles, and he rowls the nearest one over, wheelin' and fightin' and coverin' our retreat till we gets to the road agin. And they daren't folly us out of cover. Then the lady gets more sinsible, and the leftenant pershuades her to mount her horse agin.
H-a-rum? An' I'll say, 'Ain't that ole hoss wore out yet? or, 'When you comin' 'round to run off with another hoss? I'll say." At this point David got out of his chair, yawned, and walked over to the window. "Did you ever in all your born days," he said, "see such dum'd weather? Jest look out there no sleighin', no wheelin', an' a barn full wantin' exercise.
"Why, Caleb Rivers!" she exclaimed, in amazement, "you ain't cryin'?" "I dunno what I'm doin'," said Caleb, brushing off two big tears with his jumper sleeve, "an' I don't much care. It ain't your harnessin' for yourself an' feedin' the pigs, an' my not comin' Saturday night, but it's seein' you wheelin' that great thing all alone. An' you're so little, 'Mandy!
A' doot he hed bin meddlin' wi' speerits, and they were wheelin' him tae his kerridge in a luggage barrow. It wes a fearsome sicht, and eneugh tae keep ony man frae speakin' aboot intoxicat in yon louse wy."
"An' that's what I'm sayin'. Ye're here wallowin' in luxury, wheelin' pig ir'n fr'm morn till night; an' ye have no thought iv what's goin' on beyant. You an' Jawn D. Rockefeller an' Phil Ar-rmour an' Jay Pierpont Morgan an' th' r-rest iv ye is settin' back at home figurin' how ye can make some wan else pay ye'er taxes f'r ye.
An' between you an' me, Hinnissy, ivry arnychist I've knowed, an' I've met manny in me time, an' quite, law-abidin' citizens they was, too, had th' makin' iv a thradeejan in him. If they was no newspapers they'd be few arnychists. They want to get their pitchers in th' pa-apers an' they can't do it be wheelin' bananas through th' sthreets or milkin' a cow, so they go out an' kill a king.
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