"Well, Larry, you can't spell Ephabridotas?--thin, here's a short weeshy
one, and whoever spells it will get the pins;--spell a red rogue wid
three letters. You, Micky! Dan? Jack? Natty? Alick? Andy? Pettier? Jim?
Tim? Pat? Body? you? you? you? Now, boys, I'll hould you that my little
Andy here, that's only beginning the _Rational Spelling Book_, bates you
all; come here, Andy, alanna: now, boys, If he bates you, you 'must all
bring him a little _miscaun_ of butter between two kale leaves, in the
mornin', for himself; here, Andy avourneen, spell red rogue with three
letthers."

_Andy_.--"M, a, t--Mat."

"No, no, avick, that's myself, Andy; it's red rogue, Andy--hem!--F--."

"F, o, x--fox."

"That's a man, Andy. Now boys, mind what you owe Andy in the mornin,
God, won't yez?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"I will, sir."

"And I will, sir."

"And so will I sir," etc., etc, etc