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"I think Father O'Hara 'ud oblige me wid the loan o' one for a day or two;" said Phelim; "he has two or three o' them, all as good as ever." "But, Phelim," said the father, "before we go to all this trouble, are you sure you could put your comedher on Miss Pattherson?" "None o' your nonsense," said Phelim, "don't you know I could?

Mark Hanna rings f'r his sicrety an', says he: 'Have ye got off th' letther fr'm George Fred Willums advisin' Aggynaldoo to pizen th' wells? 'Yes sir. 'An' th' secret communication fr'm Bryan found on an arnychist at Pattherson askin' him to blow up th' White House? 'It's in th' hands iv th' tyepwriter. 'Thin call up an employmint agency an' have a dillygation iv Jesuites dhrop in at Lincoln, with a message fr'm th' pope proposin' to bur-rn all Protestant churches th' night befure iliction."

She has the full of a rabbit-skin o' guineas." "A made boy! Faith, they say I'm that as it is, you know. But would you wish me to put my comedher on Gracey Dalton? Spake out." "To be sure I would." "Ay," observed the mother, "or what 'ud you think of Miss Pattherson? That 'ud be the girl. She has a fine farm, an' five hundre pounds. She's a Protestant, but Phelim could make a Christian of her."