"Gintlemen," said Tommy, settling back upon his heels and admiringly
contemplating the group; "Gintlemen, I congratu-late yez wid a pride
that shoves the thumbs o' me into the arrum-holes of me weshkit! At
the inshtigation of the bowld O'Blowney--axin' the gintleman's
pardon--I am here wid no silver tongue of illoquence to para-lyze yez,
but I am prisent, as has been ripresinted, to jine wid yez in a
stupendeous waste of gun-powder, and duck-shot, and 'high-wines,' and
ham sand-witches, upon the silvonian banks of the ragin' Kankakee,
where the 'di-dipper' tips ye good-bye wid his tail, and the wild loon
skoots like a sky-rocket for his exiled home in the alien dunes of the
wild morass--or, as Tommy Moore so illegantly describes the blashted
birrud,--
'Away to the dizhmal shwamp he shpeeds--
His path is rugged and sore,
Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds,
And many a fen where the serpent feeds,
_And birrud niver flew before--
And niver will fly any more_
if iver he arrives back safe into civilization again--and I've been in
the poultry business long enough to know the private opinion and
personal integrity of ivery fowl that flies the air or roosts on
poles.
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