It was
years ago, durin' th' time iv Napolyeon, befure th' big fire? If I
raymimber right, we had peas. Wasn't it a lovely night? Oh dear, oh
dear, gintlemen iv th' press an' mon prisident, ye ought to have been
there. Well, I says to Gin'ral Billot, I says, "Gin'ral," I says, "how
ar-re ye, annyhow." An' the gin'ral replies, "F'r an ol' man, well." I
made up me mind thin that th' Cap was innocent, an' this was before he
was born.
"'Me distinguished colleague in th' thrile iv this case, th' editor iv
wan iv th' Paris papers,' says th' prisident, 'has received a letter
fr'm th' military attachay or spy iv th' Impror iv Austhrich, sayin'
that he did not write th' letter referred to be Prisident Kruger, an',
if he did, it's a forgery. But what cud ye ixpict? I will throw both
letters into the secret dossier.'
"'What's that?' says Matther Blamange.
"'It's a collection iv pomes wrote to th' Paris papers be spies,' says
th' prisident. 'Call Colonel Peekhart, if th' others ar-re not
through. What, you again, Peekhart? Set down, sir.'
"'Gintlemen iv Fr-rance,' says Colonel Peekhart.
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