Life — March 12, 1903 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

“L'VE ONLY TWO MINUTES TO SrAKE. St. Patrick and the Serpent. “(NOME, move on wid yez,” Saint Pathrick sharply. “For why axed the sarpint, coilin’ himself up more comfortably. “It's well satisfied I am wid the way things is here.” “I'm not doubtin’ that same,"’ sez aint Pathrick, ‘But it's out av it z must go, becase I’m tellin’ ye to.” “ An’ who might yez be?”? axed the sarpint, wid a sneer like a woman has at her best friend's last year's dress. “ An’ who might yez be?’’ axed he, for sure it was himself was the biggest owld sarpint in all Erin, an’ divil a bit did he care for nobody at all, at all. “I might be the Prisidint av the United States,” sez Saint Pathrick, sarcastic like, ‘tor I might be a anti- thrust law,” sez he; * but I’m not. I'm Saint Pathrick himself, an’ I'll throu- ble you to be gettin’ a move on yez. Come, move on now,’’ sez Saint Pathrick, givin’ him a whack wid his pasthorial staff. “Ouch! Murder!’ sez the sarpint, shiverin’ all over wid the pain an’ sur- prise ay it. ‘ Say, me darlin’ Saint,” he sez humbly, “can’t we arbithrate this proposition av yours?” “*There's nothin’ to arbithrate,’ quotin’ yerself,"” sez Saint Pathrick, wid a grin. sez BLAST (T aL.” ‘Sure, haven't I vested intherests?"’ axed the sarpint hotly, for his timper was niver none av the best. “If yez have,” sez Saint Pathrick, “‘sthick ’em in your vest an’ get out ay this, There's more just like yez I must be chasin’ to-day, an’ I can't stand palaverin’ wid yez forever,” sez Saint Pathrick. © Think what I've done for the counthry,”’ begs the sar- pint. “Think how it’s meself has developed its rasources, Sure, it would not amount to adhrop more’n _ tugland itself if it wasn’t for me energy an’ entherprise,”” sez the sarpint, tears in his eyes. “Thrue for yez, me bucko," sez Saint Pathrick, ‘till ye're so full av those same rasources yez can hardly crawl. But crawl yez must immejate.” “Ye'll niver be able to get along widout me,” sez the sarpint, shaking his ugly owld head warnin’ly. ‘Mere men can niver do what meself has wid “on Time, arTen att.” done, It takes a combination av sthrength an’ skill an’ courage an’ confidince to push great entherprises to success,’ sez the sarpint. “That same success bein’ the ruina- tion av everybody else,’’ sez the Saint, proddin’ him wid his staff. “Git out wid yez.”’ * Ye'll niver be able to go on wid the good work yez are doin’ av convertin’ comicbooks.com