'I suppose th' check is good,' says th' clargyman,
''Tis certified,' says th' weepin' father. 'Do ye take this check,'
says th' clargyman, 'to have an' to hold, until some wan parts ye fr'm
it?' he says. 'I do,' says th' young man. 'Thin,' says th' clargyman,
'I see no reason why ye shudden't be marrid an' live comfortable,' he
says. An' marrid they were, in th' same ol' foolish way that people's
been marrid in f'r cinchries. 'Tis a wondher to me th' ceremony ain't
changed. Th' time is comin', Hinnissy, whin millyionaires 'll not be
marrid be Father Murphy, but be th' gov'nors iv th' stock exchange.
They'll be put through th' clearin' house, me faith, an' securities
'll be issued be th' combination. Twinty-year, goold-secured, four
per cint bonds iv mathrimony! Aha, 'tis a joke that Chansy Depoo
might 've med!
"Th' crowd outside waited, cheerin' an' fightin' th' polis. In this
here land iv liberty an' akequality, Hinnissy, ivry man is as good as
ivry other man, except a polisman. An' it showed how thrue th' people
in New York is to th' thraditions iv Jefferson that divvle a wan iv
thim 'd move away till th' check 'd been passed fr'm father to son, an'
th' important part iv th' sacred ceremony was over.
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