faces and swearin' powerful; Orth'ris cursin' the mother that bore him
bekaze he was not three inches taller.

'Prisintly he sez:--"Duck, ye lump, an' I can get at a man over your
shouldher!"

'"You'll blow me head off," I sez, throwin' my arm clear; "go through
under my arm-pit, ye bloodthirsty little scutt," sez I, "but don't
shtick me or I'll wring your ears round."

'Fwhat was ut ye gave the Paythan man forninst me, him that cut at me
whin I cudn't move hand or foot? Hot or cowld was ut?'

'Cold,' said Ortheris, 'up an' under the rib-jint. 'E come down flat.
Best for you 'e did.'

'Thrue, my son! This jam thing that I'm talkin' about lasted for five
minutes good, an' thin we got our arms clear an' wint in. I misremimber
exactly fwhat I did, but I didn't want Dinah to be a widdy at the
Depot. Thin, after some promishkuous hackin' we shtuck again, an' the
Tyrone behin' was callin' us dogs an' cowards an' all manner av names;
we barrin' their way.

'"Fwhat ails the Tyrone?" thinks I; "they've the makin's av a most
convanient fight here."

'A man behind me sez beseechful an' in a whisper:--"Let me get at thim!
For the Love av Mary give me room beside ye, ye tall man!"

'"An' who are you that's so anxious to be kilt?" sez I, widout turnin'