I'd as lave, if I was a foolish woman,
which, thanks be, I'm not, hug a whitehead torpedo as Cousin George.
He'll be settin' up on th' roof iv his boat, smokin' a good see-gar,
an' wondhrin' how manny iv th' babbies named afther him 'll be in th'
pinitinchry be th' time he gets back home. Up comes me br-rave Hobson.
'Who ar-re ye, disturbin' me quite?' says Cousin George. 'I'm a hero,'
says th' Loot. 'Ar-re ye, faith?' says Cousin George. 'Well,' he says,
'I can't do annything f'r ye in that line,' he says. 'All th' hero
jobs on this boat,' he says, 'is compitintly filled,' he says, 'be
mesilf,' he says. 'I like to see th' wurruk well done,' he says, 'so,'
he says, 'I don't thrust it to anny wan,' he says. 'With th' aid iv a
small boy, who can shovel more love letthers an' pothry overboard thin
anny wan I iver see,' he says, 'I'm able to clane up me hero business
before noon ivry day,' he says. 'What's ye'er name?' he says.
'Hobson,' says th' loot. 'Niver heerd iv ye, says Cousin George.
'Where 'd ye wurruk last?' 'Why,' says th' Loot, 'I'm th' man that sunk
th' ship,' he says; 'an' I've been kissed be hundherds iv women at
home,' he says.
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