Well, sir, this here man's name was
Owsky or something iv that sort, but I always called him Casey be way
iv a joke. He had whiskers on him like thim on a cokynut, an' I heerd
he swore an oath niver to get shaved till he killed a man that wore a
stove-pipe hat.
"Be that as it may, Jawn, he was a most ferocious man. Manny's th'
time I've heerd him lecture to little Matt Doolan asleep like a log
behind th' stove. What a-are we comin' to?' he'd say. 'What a-are we
comin' to?' D'ye mind, Jawn, that's th' way he always began. 'Th' poor
do be gettin' richer,' says he, 'an' th' rich poorer,' says he. 'Th'
governmint,' says he, 'is in th' hands iv th' monno-polists,' he says,
'an' they're crushin' th' life out iv th' prolotoorios.' A
prolotoorio, Jawn, is th' same thing as a hobo. 'Look at th' Willum
Haitch Vanderbilts,' says he, 'an' th' Gools an' th' Astors,' says he,
'an' thin look at us,' he says, 'groun' down,' he says, 'till we cries
f'r bread on th' sthreet,' he says; 'an' they give us a stone,' he
says. 'Dooley,' he says, 'fetch in a tub iv beer, an' lave th' collar
off,' he says.
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