YANK--[Who has been listening with a contemptuous sneer, barks out
the answer.] Sure ting! Dat's me! What about it?

PADDY--[As if to himself--with great sorrow.] Me time is past due.
That a great wave wid sun in the heart of it may sweep me over the
side sometime I'd be dreaming of the days that's gone!

YANK--Aw, yuh crazy Mick! [He springs to his feet and advances on
Paddy threateningly--then stops, fighting some queer struggle
within himself--lets his hands fall to his sides--contemptuously.]
Aw, take it easy. Yuh're aw right, at dat. Yuh're bugs, dat's all
--nutty as a cuckoo. All dat tripe yuh been pullin'--Aw, dat's
all right. On'y it's dead, get me? Yuh don't belong no more, see.
Yuh don't get de stuff. Yuh're too old. [Disgustedly.] But aw say,
come up for air onct in a while, can't yuh? See what's happened
since yuh croaked. [He suddenly bursts forth vehemently, growing
more and more excited.] Say! Sure! Sure I meant it! What de hell--
Say, lemme talk! Hey! Hey, you old Harp! Hey, youse guys! Say,
listen to me--wait a moment--I gotter talk, see. I belong and he
don't. He's dead but I'm livin'. Listen to me! Sure I'm part of de
engines! Why de hell not! Dey move, don't dey? Dey're speed, ain't
dey? Dey smash trou, don't dey? Twenty-five knots a hour! Dat's
goin' some! Dat's new stuff! Dat belongs! But him, he's too old.
He gets dizzy. Say, listen. All dat crazy tripe about nights and
days; all dat crazy tripe about stars and moons; all dat crazy
tripe about suns and winds, fresh air and de rest of it--Aw hell,
dat's all a dope dream! Hittin' de pipe of de past, dat's what
he's doin'. He's old and don't belong no more. But me, I'm young!
I'm in de pink! I move wit it! It, get me! I mean de ting dat's de
guts of all dis. It ploughs trou all de tripe he's been sayin'. It