Jools at this moment was a tur-rble sight. He was dhressed
fr'm head to foot in Harveyized, bomb-proof steel, with an asbestos
rose in his buttonhole. Round his waist was sthrapped four hundherd
rounds iv ca'tridges an' eight days' provisions. He car-rid a Mauser
rifle on each shoulder, a machine gun undher wan ar-rm, a dinnymite
bomb undher another, an' he was smoking a cigareet. 'Ladies an'
gintlemen,' he says, 'I'm proud an' pleased to see ye prisint in such
lar-rge numbers at th' first rivolution iv th' prisint season,' he
says. 'With th' kind permission iv th' hated polis undher th'
di-rection iv me good frind an' fellow-journalist, Loot Franswoo
Coppere, an' th' ar-rmy, f'r whose honor ivry Fr-renchman 'll lay down
his life, th' siege will now begin. We will not,' he says, 'lave this
house till we have driven ivry cur-rsed Cosmypollitan or Jew,' he
says, 'fr'm this noble land iv th' br-rave an' home iv th' flea,' he
says. 'Veev Fr-rance!' he says. 'Veev Jools Guerin!' he says.
'Conspuez Rothscheeld!' he says. 'It's ye'er move, Loot,' he says to
th' polisman.
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