Life — March 25, 1899 — page 19: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

259 before the chronic trimbles sits in.’ Smith's hoorse wor diffrunt, Ho wor loike Smith, ownly more cowloike and gintle, but not much, and whin yez punches him In the stall he turns the oyes av him on yez and troies to say a verso from Scripture, turnin’ the other solide av him to be punched. “On the day av the theatrickle, or whativer ‘twas, the whole party gets out early in the moornin’, and again just befoor dinner, havin’ the ixcoite- ment on them und cravin’ activity. Mowst av thim gets back betoimes, but two av thim’s missin’, and thim two wor Riginald and the girl. They takes a new road, the others says, manio’ to get homo first; but it gets dark and tolme for the doin’s to begin, and they're not homo first yet; and Oi'm seein’ a troubled look in the oyes av the owld man, and Smith walks around the place loike a felly wid a bad drame. “Thin av a sudden they comes on a did walk, Riginald ladin’ his hoorse, thot limps loike a dishrag, and tho girl follyin’, A great shout goes up— Smith uot givin’ it—and they bustles inty the bouse to get riddy for what they're callin’ the preformance. Riginald’s hoorse goes lame, they said, and that howlds thim back. Oi looks the baste owver whin Oi’'m alone, and Oi'm seein’ thot he’s not bad hurt, nadin’ a bit av a band about the lig and rist for a toime, but Oi'm knowin’ down in mesiif thot tho hurt wor no accident. Later Ot learns thot Riginald tills the girl, after monkeyin’ wid the animal's lig, thot they'll bo havin’ to lit him rist a bit, and thin makes love to her wid no Smiths to interfere, they sittin’ on the grane banks av a brook whoile tho hoorses nibbles the grass behoind thim, “Nothin’ comes av it? Ob, no, sor; nothin’ comes av it; but ‘tis moighty nurrie is the ‘scape the girl bas—narrie, sor, as tho idyo av an Oirish wit, “Ol wor sittin’ in me room in the stables thot noight wid no loight, thinkin’ av a pair av blue oyes thot wor workin’ thimsilves ton blister in tho kitchen av a brownstono house in town, and dramin’ ay tho lakes ay Killarney, thot be shuttin’ me oyewinkers down betwano mo oyes and the moon Oi can soe plain, whin Oi hears voices stilthily walkin’ out nixt the stalls, ‘Now, what's thot ?* says Oi, and goes to a bit av a pakehowle Oi has for the sake av convanience. There, sor, wor Riginald, and wid him the girl! 'm secin’ "twor a runaway they're goin’ to commit, and Oi'm tillin’ yez Oi'm stumped fora minute to know whattodo, Riginald wor greatly ixcited, Oi could seo, and the girl wor trimblin’ hard. “Oi can’t take moy hoorse,’ says he; ‘he’s lame.’ “ They sittin’ on the grane banks av a brook.” others, and av coorse after a toime bad falin’s begins to show. They gots very pooloite and corjul, and thot, sor, whin carried to ixcess in the bist soociety, manes murder many tho toime. “Riginald wor the richer av tho two, Sure, he'd a crist on the dog-cart av him thot he'd paid a good sum for, and 'twor very proud he wor ay the same, it showin’ him to have blood in him thot many years ago had kilt innocent children and stow! milons and raised the divil wid moorality intoirely. Av coorse, 'twor a loio, his havin’ tho blood, but ‘twor a good guiss av tho felly thot aills him the roights to it. Oi'm hearin’, too, thot he's the pictures ay some ay thim owld duffers hung on the walls ay bis apartments, whole the loikeness av his owld grandfathor’s hung tinderly in tho bottom av an owhl trunk under the back stairs. “Smith sticks to his own ancistors, and for thot raison Oi favors him in the foight thot's on for tho girl. He wor a strappin’ youngster, wid whoite hair and black eyes—as black, sor, as thim yez have in your own bid—and a plisont twist av the tongue whin talkin’ wid me which tho other has not, bein’ owverbearin’ and perductive av wicked thoughts in me moind, that wor on a bair- trigger in thim days, and ‘tis but little bitter now. Bowth has horses in tho stables, too, and Oi judges thim be thim. Riginald’s wor @ big bay wid tho funny business all knocked ont av him. Sure ho wor the littlest big hoorse Oi iver saw, startin’ and trimblin’ whin yez goes near him, ‘ loike the woife av his owner will be doin’, thinks Oi, ‘If sho's strong as a hoorse and don't dole “Thin lit us wait,’ says the girl, “*No, boy hivin!? says he, and rushes at tho first door ho comes to, which wor Biss's. “0 moy,O moy,’ thinks Oi, ‘if he roides thot youngster the graif av tho owld man at tho losin’ av his daughter will near kill him.’ And Oi can seo he's goin’ to roide her. What to do OL dunno, 80 Oi stands and does nothin’ frantickally; and purty soon ho lades the little maro out av the stall und troles to put tho broidlo onty her; but ‘tis moiles too big enough, and he whips out his knoifo and cuts a bowle in the throatlatch. Thin ho claps a saddle onty her, and she's not loikin’ it. She. stips about lotke a man wid a pain in bis taith, and soon Riginald loses bis timper intoirely and jabs hor in the flank wid his knoife, ““Twor thin Oi'm doin’ somethin'—though, bejakers, sor, Oi'm knowin’ no moro what to do than Oi knows at first. Oi owpens the door and says what’s up? The girl’s alriddy on her hoorse and waitin’, Riginald gives a growl, throwin’ the saddle aside, and Lapes on the bare back av tho cowlt, But would she go? No, sor! Sho stands quiverin’, not movin’a hoof. She's onty the same, Oi’'m thinkin’, Riginald, still howldin’ tho knoife, troies to jab her wid it agin, and Oi loses me timper. Whir-r-rool Oi'm jorkin’ bim onty the fluro and stippin’ on him a bit Oi dunno, and he's swearin’ loike a dago parrot, and tho girl’s down off her mount, howldin’ her cars and shakin’ wid soba. “Tho racket wakes up owld Grimley, him not slapin’ yit, and he comes rushin’ out, wid Smith follyin’, Riginald down’t wait to