"If you call me a liar agin, I'll give you a dig in the mug."

"It's not in your jacket."

"Isn't it?"

"Behave yourself; ha! there's the masther looking at you--ye'll get it
now."--

"None at all, Tim? And she's not after sinding an excuse wid you? What's
that undher your arm?"

"My Grough, sir."--(Buz, buz, buz.)

"Silence, boys. And, you blackguard Lilliputian, you, what kept you away
till this?"

"One bird pickin', two men thrashin'; one bird pickin', two men
thrashin'; one bird pickin'--"

"Sir, they're stickn' pins in me, here."

"Who is, Briney?"

"I don't know, sir, they're all at it."

"Boys, I'll go down to yez."

"I can't carry him, sir, he'd be too heavy for me: let Larry Toole do
it, he's stronger nor me; any way, there, he's putting a corker pin in