'Go,' he says. 'I'll stay, but you go,' he says. 'They's nawthin' in
stayin', an' ye might get hold iv a tyrannical watch or a pocket book
down beyant,' he says. An' off wint th' brave pathrite to do his
jooty. He done it, too. Whin Cousin George was pastin' th' former
hated Castiles, who was it stood on th' shore shootin' his
bow-an-arrow into th' sky but Aggynaldoo? Whin me frind Gin'ral
Merritt was ladin' a gallant charge again blank catredges, who was it
ranged his noble ar-rmy iv pathrites behind him f'r to see that no wan
attackted him fr'm th' sea but Aggynaldoo? He was a good man thin,--a
good noisy man.

"Th' throuble was he didn't know whin to knock off. He didn't hear th'
wurruk bell callin' him to come in fr'm playin' ball an' get down to
business. Says me Cousin George: "Aggynaldoo, me buck,' he says, 'th'
war is over,' he says, 'an' we've settled down to th' ol' game,' he
says. 'They're no more heroes. All iv thim has gone to wurruk f'r th'
magazines. They're no more pathrites,' he says. 'They've got jobs as
gov'nors or ar-re lookin' f'r thim or annything else,' he says. 'All
th' prom'nint saviors iv their counthry,' he says, 'but mesilf,' he
says, 'is busy preparin' their definse,' he says. 'I have no definse,'
he says; 'but I'm where they can't reach me,' he says. 'Th' spoort is
all out iv th' job; an', if ye don't come in an' jine th' tilin masses
iv wage-wurrukers,' he says, 'ye won't even have th' credit iv bein'
licked in a gloryous victhry,' he says. 'So to th' woodpile with ye!'
he says; 'f'r ye can't go on cillybratin' th' Foorth iv July without
bein' took up f'r disordherly conduct,' he says.

"An' Aggynaldoo doesn't undherstand it. An' he gathers his Archery
Club ar-round him, an' says he: 'Fellow-pathrites,' he says, 'we've
been betrayed,' he says. 'We've been sold out without,' he says,