Thin, puttin' on a darin' front an' reachin' f'r me handkerchief, I
says, 'Stand back, robber!' I says. 'Stand back, robber!' I says.
'Stand back!' I says.

"'Excuse _me_,' says th' la-ad. 'I beg ye'er pardon,' he says.

"'Beg th' pardon iv Hiven,' says I, 'f'r stoppin' a desperate man in
th' sthreet,' says I; 'f'r in a holy minyit I'll blow off th' head iv
ye,' says I, with me hand on th' handkerchief that niver blew nawthin'
but this nose iv mine."

"'I humbly ask your pardon,' he says, showin' a star; 'but I'm a
polisman.'

"'Polisman or robber,' says I, 'stand aside!' I says.

"'I'm a polisman,' he says, 'an' I'm undher ordhers to be polite with
citizens I stop,' he says; 'but, if ye don't duck up that road in half
a minyit, ye poy-faced, red-eyed, lop-eared, thick-headed ol'
bosthoon,' he says, 'I'll take ye be th' scruff iv th' neck an' thrun
ye into th' ga-as-house tank,' he says, 'if I'm coort-martialed f'r it
to-morrow.'

"Thin I knew he _was_ a polisman; an' I wint away, Jawn."




SHAUGHNESSY.