a specialty. What's the raysult, Hinnissy? Most potes I despise. But
Roodyard Kipling's pothry is aisy. Ye can skip through it while ye're
atin' breakfuss an' get a c'rrect idee iv th' current news iv th'
day,--who won th' futball game, how Sharkey is thrainin' f'r th'
fight, an' how manny votes th' pro-hybitionist got f'r gov'nor iv th'
State iv Texas. No col' storage pothry f'r Kipling. Ivrything fr-resh
an' up to date. All lays laid this mornin'.

"Hogan was in to-day readin' Kipling's Fridah afthernoon pome, an'
'tis a good pome. He calls it 'Th' Thruce iv th' Bear.' This is th'
way it happened: Roodyard Kipling had just finished his mornin' batch
iv pothry f'r th' home-thrade, an' had et his dinner, an' was thinkin'
iv r-runnin' out in th' counthry f'r a breath iv fr-resh air, whin in
come a tillygram sayin' that th' Czar iv Rooshia had sint out a
circular letther sayin' ivrybody in th' wurruld ought to get together
an' stop makin' war an' live a quite an' dull life. Now Kipling don't
like the czar. Him an' th' czar fell out about something, an' they
don't speak. So says Roodyard Kipling to himsilf, he says: 'I'll take
a crack at that fellow,' he says. 'I'll do him up,' he says. An' so he
writes a pome to show that th' czar's letter's not on th' square.
Kipling's like me, Hinnissy. When I want to say annything lib-lous, I
stick it on to me Uncle Mike. So be Roodyard Kipling. He doesn't come
r-right out, an' say, 'Nick, ye're a liar!' but he tells about what
th' czar done to a man he knowed be th' name iv Muttons. Muttons, it
seems, Hinnissy, was wanst a hunter; an' he wint out to take a shot at
th' czar, who was dhressed up as a bear. Well, Muttons r-run him down,
an' was about to plug him, whin th' czar says, 'Hol' on,' he
says,--'hol' on there,' he says. 'Don't shoot,' he says. 'Let's talk
this over,' he says. An' Muttons, bein' a foolish man, waited till th'
czar come near him; an' thin th' czar feinted with his left, an' put