'Glory be to the
saints,' he says, 'what an injaynious thribe these Yankees is!' says
he. 'On'y a few weeks ago they thried to desthroy me be dumpin' a load
iv coal on me,' he says; 'an' now,' he says, 'they're goin' to
smother me in feed,' he says. 'They'll be rollin' bar'ls iv flour on
me fr'm th' heights next,' he says. 'I'd betther get out,' he says.
''Tis far nobler,' he says, 'to purrish on th' ragin' main,' he says,
'thin to die with ye'er lungs full iv hayseed an' ye'er eyes full iv
dust,' he says. 'I was born in a large city,' he says; 'an' I don't
know th' rules iv th' barn,' he says. An' he wint out, an' took his
lickin'.
"'Twas too bad Shafter didn't get a chanst at him, but he's give th'
tip to th' la-ads that makes th' boats. No more ixpinsive steel an'
ir'n, but good ol' grass fr'm th' twinty-acre meadow. Th' ship-yards
'll be moved fr'm th' say, an' laid down in th' neighborhood iv Polo,
Illinye, an' all th' Mississippi Valley 'll ring with th' sound iv th'
scythe an' th' pitchfork buildin' th' definse iv our counthry's honor.
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