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Instantly his eyes flashed angry fire, he shot out his fist to strike me, when a neighbor said, "Don't hit him Cap, he don't know no better, he's a Yank." "Wall Yank," drawled this six feet of fighting man, "seein' ye don't know no better, I'll let ye off this time; but I don't keep no tarvern, and when me and my family come yure way, we'll all stop with yew, that'll even it up."
"Well, ye see," said the foreman, "the prisint incoombent has been mixin' too much red wid his paint, an' it don't wurrk." "You mean he drinks?" asked Dennis with humorous inquiry. "Oi do," replied the foreman; "an' now that we have inthroduced th' subject, excuse a personal quistion: Do ye wet yure whistle in business hours?" "No," answered Dennis promptly, "nor out of them.
"Well, sir, what do you want?" said Tiffles. "If you please, sir," said the singular being, in a cracked voice, "yure the pannyrarmer, a'n't ye?" "Not exactly, my lad, but I own it. And who are you?" "My name's Stoop, if you please, sir." Mr. Boolpin broke out with a laugh, which made the building reverberate. "It's the village idiot," said he.
But I'm dyin', Sam, and it's cos you've killed me." "Good God, Mary!" cried the astonished Sam, jumping up; "yure crazy here, doctor!" "Doctor can't do no good, Sam; keep still, and listen, ef yer love me like yer once said yer did; for I hevn't got much breath left," gasped the woman. "Mary," said the aggrieved Sam, "I swow to God I dunno what yer drivin' at."
"Well, ask them," directed Hodge, shortly, as the boys halted and clustered again. "I want to know if you actually think I am wicked enough to wish to kill a fellow cadet and classmate?" "As fer mesilif, Oi dunno," admitted Barney. "Yure a big scoundrel, but Oi don't loike ter think any felly's villain enough to do murther." "But it looks mighty black for you, Bascomb," said Bart.
Well, it seems that Robin o' Sceawter's, th' carrier his feyther went by th' name o' 'Cowd an' Hungry; he're a quarryman by trade; a long, hard, brown-looking felley, wi' e'en like gig-lamps, an' yure as strung as a horse's mane. He looked as if he'd bin made out o' owd dur-latches, an' reawsty nails.
"Well," returned the foreman, "iv'ry thing's wid you this mornin' but yure head," and he pointed out several blunders which Dennis had made. "Sure, an' I'm sorry for that," he said with blushing contriteness; "it will not happen again." The foreman, however, had told the truth only in part, for Dennis had left not only his head behind him, but a considerable portion of his heart.
"Well, Andy," said he, "how much do you think it will take to keep your mare from starving until you get back to Baltimore? Here's your two shillings more." Andy accepted the two shillings with evident satisfaction on behalf of the mare. "That's the eight shillin' ye gave me fur the mare an' meself, an' Oi think yure honor ought to give me two more in consequince av the fright ye gave me.
"There baint no warter put tu't, Joe Gudewyn. The warter-varl be tu handy vur yure brewin'." "Zum of my customers has weak 'yeds, 'tis arl the better for they," said Goodwyn, calmly. "Then charge 'em accardin', Mr. Landlord, charge 'em accardin', zays I. Warter doan't cost 'ee nart, du 'un?" said Happy Jack, triumphantly.
Yure rather more Roon than Octo, I take it," sed I, fur I never seed a puttier gal in the hull endoorin time of my life. She had on a More Antic Barsk & a Poplin Nubier with Berage trimmins onto it, while her ise & kurls was enuff to make a man jump into a mill pond without biddin his relashuns good-by.
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