sight f'r th' judges, whin they were awake. Row on row iv journalists,
sharpin' pencils an' slappin' each other's faces, r-rose to th'
ceilin'. Here an' there cud be seen a brillyant uniform, denotin' th'
prisince iv th' London Times corryspondint. Th' lawn behind th' coort
was thronged with ex-mimbers iv th' Fr-rinch governmint. Th' gin'ral
staff, bein' witnesses f'r th' prosecution, sat with th' coort: th'
pris'ner, not bein' able to find a chair, sat on th' window-sill. His
inthrest in th' proceedin's was much noticed, an' caused gr-reat
amusement. Ivrybody was talkin' about th' mysteryous lady in white.
Who is she? Some say she is a Dhryfussard in th' imploy iv
Rothscheeld; others, that she is an agent iv th' Anti-Semites. No wan
has learned her name. She says she is Madame Lucille Gazahs, iv wan
hundherd an' eight Rue le Bombon, an' is a fav'rite iv th' Fr-rinch
stage. She is wan iv th' great mysthries iv this ree-markable thrile.
"Afther th' coort had kissed th' witnesses, th' proceedin's opined.
'Tis thrue, they kiss each other. I wanst see a Fr-rinchman go f'r to
kiss a man be th' name iv Doherty, that inthrajooced risolutions in
favor iv Fr-rance again Germany at a convintion. Doherty thought he
was afther his ear, an' laid him out. But in Fr-rance 'tis different.
They begin be kissin', an' this thrile opined this way.
"'Pris'ner,' said th' prisident iv th' coort, 'th' eyes iv Fr-rance is
upon us, th' honor iv th' nation is at stake. Th' naytional definces,
th' integrity iv that ar-rmy upon which Fr-rance must depind in time
iv peace, th' virtue iv public life, an' th' receipts iv th'
exposition is involved. Incidentally, ye ar-re bein' thried. But why
dhrag in matthers iv no importance? We ar-re insthructed, accordin' to
th' pa-apers, be th' Coort iv Cassation, to permit no ividince that
does not apply to your connection with th' case. As sojers, we bow to
th' superyor will. We will follow out th' instructions iv th' supreme
coort. We have not had time to read thim, but we will look at thim
afther th' thrile. In th' mane time we will call upon Gin'ral Merceer,
that gallant man, to tell us th' sthory iv his life.'
"'I obey, mon colonel,' says Gin'ral Merceer, kissin' th' coort. 'Not
to begin too far back, an' to make a long sthory short, I am an honest
man, an' th' son iv an honest man. I admit it.'
"'Good,' says th' prisident. 'D'ye recognize th' pris'ner?' 'I do,'
says Gin'ral Merceer, 'I seen him wanst dhrinkin' a shell iv Munich
beer in a caafe. [Marked sensation in th' coort, an' cries iv 'Abase
la bock.']
"'I says to mesilf thin, "This man is a thraitor." But th' thrainin'
iv a sojer makes wan cautious. I determined to fortify mesilf with
ividince. I put spies on this man, this perfiejous wretch, an'
discovered nawthin'. I was paralyzed. An officer iv th' Fr-rinch
ar-rmy, an' nawthin' suspicyous about him! Damnable! I was with
difficulty resthrained fr'm killin' him. But I desisted. [Cries iv
'Shame!'] I said to mesilf: "Th' honor iv Fr-rance is at stake. Th'
whole wurruld is lookin' at me, at me, Bill Merceer. I will go to bed
an' think it over." I wint to bed. Sleep, blessed sleep that sews up
th' confused coat-sleeve iv care, as th' perfiejous Shakspere [cries
iv 'Conspuez Shakspere!'] says, dayscinded on me tired eyes. [The
coort weeps.] I laid aside me honor [cries iv 'Brave gin'ral'] with me
coat [murmurs]. I slept.
"'I dhreamed that I see th' German Impror playin' a Jew's-harp. [Cries
iv 'Abase Rothscheeld!' an' sensation.] I woke with a vi'lent start,
th' perspiration poorin' fr'm me rugged brow. "Cap Dhryfuss is
guilty," I cried. But no, I will confirm me ividince. I darted into me
r-red pants. I dhruv with fury to th' home iv Madame Cleepathry, th'
cillibrated Agyptian asthrologist an' med'cin woman. [Th' coort, 'We
know her, she supplies ividence to all Fr-rinch coorts.'] I tol' her
me dhream. She projoosed a pack iv cards. She tur-rned a r-red king
an' a black knave. "Th' Impror Willum an' Cap Dhryfuss," I says, in a
fury. I burst forth. I had Cap Dhryfuss arristed. I dashed to th'
prisident. He was a-receivin' rayfusals f'r a new cabinet. "I have
found th' thraitor," says I. "Hush!" says he. "If th' Impror Willum
hears ye, he'll declare war," he says. I was stupefied. "Oh, my
beloved counthry!" I cried. "Oh, hivin!" I cried. "What shall I do?"
I cried. They was not a minyit to lose. I disbanded th' ar-rmy. I
ordhered th' navy into dhry dock. I had me pitcher took, I wint home
an' hid in th' cellar. F'r wan night Fr-rance was safe.'
"They was hardly a dhry eye in th' house whin th' gin'ral paused. Th'
coort wept. Th' aujience wept. Siv'ral of th' minor journalists was
swept out iv th' room in th' flood. A man shovellin' coal in th'
cellar sint up f'r an umbrella. Th' lawn shook with th' convulsive
sobs iv th' former ministers. Gin'ral Merceer raised his damp face,
an' blew a kiss to a former minister at wan iv th' windows, an'
resumed his tistimony."
THE DREYFUS CASE.
II.
"'It was about this time or some years later,' continues Gin'ral
Merceer, 'that I received ividince iv th' Cap's guilt. I made it
mesilf. It was a letter written be me fr'm th' Cap to a German grocer,
askin' f'r twinty r-rounds iv sausage. [Turmoil in the coort.] It was
impossible, mon colonel, that this here letter cud have been written
be Estherhazy. In th' first place he was in Paris at th' time, in th'
sicond place he was in London. Th' letter is not in his handwritin',
but in th' handwritin' iv Colonel Pat th' Clam. Thin again I wrote th'
letter mesilf. Thin who cud 've written it? It must 've been Cap
Dhryfuss. [Cheers fr'm th' coort.] I give me reasons as they occurred
to me: First, th' Armeenyan athrocities; sicond, th' risignation iv
Gin'ral Alger; third, th' marriage iv Prince Lobengula; fourth, th'
scarcity iv sarvint girls in th' sooburban towns; fifth, th' price iv
gas. [Cries iv 'Abase th' price iv gas!'] I thank th' aujience. I will
raysume where I left off. I was speakin' iv Gin'ral Guns. I met him on
th' sthreet. Th' moon was clear in th' sky. I says, "Guns," I says,
"lave us go down to Hogan's, an' I'll buy ye a tub iv obsceenthe." As
we sthrolled through th' bullyvard, I saw a man that looked like a
German dhrivin' a cab. I was overcome with terror. I ran madly home,
followed be Guns. It was a week befure I cud hold a glass iv
obsceenthe without spillin' th' liquor. Shortly afther this, or it
may've been tin years befure, or it may niver have occurred [the
coort, 'Spoken like a Fr-rinchman an' a sojer'], in th' middle iv July
a man tol' me that the divine Sara [wild an' continyous applause,
cries iv 'Sara foriver!'] was about to projooce th' immortal play iv
"Omlet" [cheers] be th' wretched Shakspere [hisses]. Cud annything be
clearer? I will detain th' coort not longer thin a day while I give me
opinyon on this marvellous performance.'
"Cap Dhryfuss was settin' on th' window-sill, whistlin' 'Garry Owen,'
an' makin' faces at th' gallant corryspondint iv th' Daily Wrongs iv
Man. At this point he cried out laughingly: 'I will not conthradict
th' gin'ral. I will say he lies. I saw th' letter mesilf, an' that man
was Esterhazy.' [Sensation.]
"'Let me ask this canal iv a Jew a question,' says th' corryspondint
iv th' evening Rothscheeld Roaster, a Fr-rinchman be th' name iv Sol
Levi.
"'Ask it,' says Cap Dhryfuss.
"'You are a despicable thraitor,' says th' gallant corryspondint.
[Sensation.]
"'Th' pris'ner must answer,' says th' coort. 'It is now nearly six
o'clock iv th' mornin', an' time to get up an' dhress.'
"'I refuse to make anny commint,' says Cap Dhryfuss,
"The pris'ner's remark, uttered in tones iv despair, caused gr-reat
emotion in th' aujience. There were angry cries iv 'Lynch him!' an'
all eyes were tur-rned to th' Cap.
"'Silence!' roared th' coort, bendin' a stern, inflexible look on th'
pris'ner. 'This is a coort iv justice. We ar-re disposed f'r to grant
ivry indulgence; but, if outsiders persist in intherferin' with these
proceedin's,' he says, 'we'll expel thim fr'm th' r-room. What does
th' prisoner think this is?'
"'I thought it was a thrile,' says th' Cap; 'but, be th' number iv
vet'ran journalists here, it must be th' openin' iv a new hotel.'
"'Not another wurrud,' says th' coort, 'or ye'll be fired out. No wan
shall insult th' honest, hard-wurrukin', sober, sensible journalists
iv Fr-rance. Not if this coort knows it. Ye bet ye, boys, th' coort is
with ye. Th' press is th' palajeen iv our liberties. Gin'ral Merceer
will raysume his tistimony. He was speakin' of th' game iv goluf.'
"'Perhaps I'd betther sing it,' says th' gin'ral.
"'I'll play an accompanymint f'r ye on th' flute,' says th' prisident
iv th' coort. 'While Gin'ral Merceer is proceedin' with his remarks,
call Colonel Pat th' Clam, who is sick an' can't come. Swear Gin'ral
Billot, Gin'ral Boisdeffer, Gin'ral Chammy, an' th' former mimbers iv
th' governmint.'
"'I object to thim bein' sworn,' says Matther Blamange.
"'They must be sworn,' says th' prisident. 'How th' divvle can they
perjure thimsilves if they ain't sworn? An' who ar-re ye, annyhow?'
"'I'm th' counsel f'r th' pris'ner,' says Matther Blamange. 'Get out
ye'ersilf,' says Matther Blamange. 'I'm as good a man as ye ar-re. I
will ask that gintleman who jest wint out the dure, Does it pay to
keep up appearances?' [Groans.]
"'Gin'ral Billot,' says th' prisident, 'what d'ye know about this
infernal case which is broodin' like a nightmare over our belovid
counthry, an' gettin' us up ivry mornin' befure milkin' time?'
"'Nawthin' at all,' says Gin'ral Billot.
"'Nayther do I,' says th' prisident. 'But I think th' Cap's guilty.'
"'I'm glad to hear ye say that,' says th' gin'ral, 'If ye didn't, I'd
rayjooce ye to th' r-ranks to-morrah. I niver see th' man befure; an',
be hivins, I don't want to see him again. But I have a letter here
fr'm him, askin' me if he cud knock off wurruk at four o'clock to go
to his aunt's fun'ral.'
"'Cap,' says th' prisident, 'what ye got to say to this? Did ye write
th' letter?'
"'I did,' says th' Cap.
"'Throw it out thin,' says th' prisident. 'We must be guided be th'
laws iv ividence. Th' witness will confine himself to forgeries. Have
ye e'er a forgery about ye'er clothes, mon gin'ral?'
"'I wish to confront th' witness,' says Matther Blamange.
"'Sit down,'" says th' prisident.
"'D'ye raymimber meetin' me at dinner at Moosoo de Bozoo's. It was
years ago, durin' th' time iv Napolyeon, befure th' big fire? If I
raymimber right, we had peas. Wasn't it a lovely night? Oh dear, oh
dear, gintlemen iv th' press an' mon prisident, ye ought to have been
there. Well, I says to Gin'ral Billot, I says, "Gin'ral," I says, "how
ar-re ye, annyhow." An' the gin'ral replies, "F'r an ol' man, well." I
made up me mind thin that th' Cap was innocent, an' this was before he
was born.
"'Me distinguished colleague in th' thrile iv this case, th' editor iv
wan iv th' Paris papers,' says th' prisident, 'has received a letter
fr'm th' military attachay or spy iv th' Impror iv Austhrich, sayin'
that he did not write th' letter referred to be Prisident Kruger, an',
if he did, it's a forgery. But what cud ye ixpict? I will throw both
letters into the secret dossier.'
"'What's that?' says Matther Blamange.
"'It's a collection iv pomes wrote to th' Paris papers be spies,' says
th' prisident. 'Call Colonel Peekhart, if th' others ar-re not
through. What, you again, Peekhart? Set down, sir.'
"'Gintlemen iv Fr-rance,' says Colonel Peekhart. 'Unaccustomed as I am
to public speakin', I wish to addhress ye a few wurruds on th'
situation iv th' poor in China.'
"'Assassin!' hisses th' coort.
"'Canal!' says Matther Blamange.
"At this moment th' door was burst open; an' an ex-Prisident iv
Fr-rance come boundin' in, an', r-rushin' up th' steps iv th'
thrybune, smacked Gin'ral Merceer in th' eye. Th' gr-reatest rayspict
was shown f'r th' former chief magistrate iv th' raypublic. No wan
shot at him. He was white with rage. 'Th' honor iv Fr-rance is at
stake,' he says. 'Our counthry lies prostrate in th' mud. I must
presarve th' dignity iv me high office; but, if Gin'ral Merceer will
step out into th' back yard, I'll beat his head off. I don't know
annything about this accursed case. It was all referred to me whin I
was Prisident. I am here to see that th' honor iv me high office is
not assailed. I protest I did not say what an anonymous corryspondint
in to-night's Sore says I said. I did me jooty. Whin I saw th' ar-rmy
disorganized an' Fr-rance beset be foreign foes, I raysigned. What was
I to do? Was I to stay in office, an' have me hat smashed in ivry time
I wint out to walk? I tell ye, gintlemen, that office is no signcure.
Until hats are made iv cast iron, no poor man can be Prisident iv
Fr-rance. But I was not speakin' iv th' Dhryfuss case.'
"'Don't dare to mintion that matter in this coort,' says th'
prisident. 'I'm surprised a man iv ye'er intilligence 'd thry to dhrag
in exthranyous matther, whin th' honor iv th' ar-rmy is at stake.
Gin'ral Merceer, stand beside this witness. Now both speak at wanst!
Annybody else that has annything to say, lave him say it now, so it
won't be heard.'
"'Mon colonel,' says a former minister iv th' Fr-rinch governmint, who
was th' polisman at th' dure, 'Judge Crazy th' Boorepare is here,
demandin' to be heard.'
"'Gr-reat hivins!' says th' coort; an' they wint out through th'
windows.
"That night they was gr-reat excitement in Rennes. Th' citizens
dhrivin home their cows cud har'ly make their way through th' excited
throngs on th' sthreet. Th' corryspondints iv th' English papers do
not dare to go to bed befure nine o'clock on account iv rumors iv a
gin'ral massacre. Madame Sara Bernhardt gave a magnificint performance
at th' theaytre, an' was wildly cheered. It was believed in London,
Budapesth, Posen, New York, Cookham, an' Upper Sandusky that Fr-rance
is about to perish. As I go to press, th' news has excited no commint
in Fr-rance."
THE DREYFUS CASE.
III.
"While th' thrillin' scenes I'm tellin' ye about is goin' on,
Hinnissy, worse is bein' enacted in beautiful Paris. In that lovely
city with its miles an' miles iv sparklin' resthrants,--la belly
Paree, as Hogan 'd say,--th' largest American city in th' wurruld, a
rivolution's begun. If ye don't believe it, read th' pa-apers. They've
arrested a pote. That was all r-right; f'r Fr-rance is sufferin' fr'm
too much pothry that 'll scan, as Hogan says, an' too much morality
that won't. They ought to be a rule f'r th' polis to pinch anny pote
caught poting between th' hours iv twelve an' twelve. But th' mistake
th' chief iv th' polis made was to r-run in a butcher at th' same
time. What th' butcher done I dinnaw; but annyhow they accused him iv
wantin' to poleaxe th' governmint; an' they thrun him into a cell. Now
th' butcher he had a frind be th' name iv Guerin,--an Irish name it
is, but this la-ad don't appear to be wan iv us,--Jools Guerin. He was
wanst in th' thripe business; but he is now r-runnin' a newspaper,
like most iv th' people iv Fr-rance. As a thripe butcher, his
circulation was larger an' among a betther class than his newspaper.
Bein' a la-ad with a fine sinse iv gratichood, an' havin' been wanst
fed an' clothed be a Jew man, he calls his pa-aper th' Anti-Jew; an'
its principle is, whin ye see a Jew, hand him a crack in th' jaw. 'Tis
a good principle, though I wanst knew a man be th' name iv Solomon
Felsenthal, that was known in th' ring as Mike Gallegher, th'
Tipp'rary Cyclone, as a thribute to th' feelin's iv th' pathrons iv
spoort; an', if Jools had thried to carry out his platform with Solly,
they'd be no siege in Fort Chabrool. Not anny. That Jew man 'd been
champeen iv th' wurruld if all iv him cud 've kept out iv close
quarthers with th' man again him.
"I don't quarrel with Jools' feelin's, mind ye. 'Tis th' histhry iv
th' wurruld that th' Jews takes our watches fr'm us be tin per cint a
month, an' we take thim back be means iv a jimmy an' a piece iv lead
pipe. They're on'y two known methods iv finance,--bankin' an'
burglary. Th' Jews has th' first down fine, but all th' rest iv th'
wurruld is at home in th' second. So Jools's all r-right as far as he
goes. But he don't go far.
"Well, whin Jools hear-rd that his frind th' butcher was sloughed up,
he wint fairly wild. He says to himsilf, he says, 'I'll go home,' he
says, 'an' defy th' governmint,' he says. 'I'll start a rivolution,'
he says. 'But,' he says, 'I must first notify th' polis,' he says,
'so's to prevint disordher,' he says. So he wint to th' chief iv
polis, who was an ol' frind iv his,--they was in th' same newspaper
office or thripe dairy or something,--an' th' chief kissed Jools, an'
asked him what he cud do f'r him. 'I wish,' said Jools, 'ye'd sind
down tin or a dozen good men in uniform an' a few detectives in
citizen's clothes,' he says.
"I've asked some ladies an' gintlemen to a five o'clock rivolution at
my house,' he says; 'an' I'd like to be sure they'll be no disordher,'
he says. 'Well,' says th' chief, ''twill not be aisy,' he says. 'Ye
see th' prisident--I f'rget his name--has been asked to go to th'
r-races with some frinds,' he says; 'an' they will prob'bly thry to
kill him,' he says. 'We can't play anny fav'rites here,' he says. 'We
have to protect th' low as well as th' high,' he says. 'If annything
happens to this man, th' case is li'ble to be taken up be th'
ex-prisidents' association; an' they're num'rous enough to make
throuble f'r us,' he says. 'But,' he says, 'I'll do what I can f'r ye,
me ol' frind,' he says. 'Give us th' best ye have,' says Jools; 'an',
if ye've nawthin' to do afther ye close up, ye might dhrop in,' he
says, 'an' have a manifesto with us,' he says. 'Come just as ye
ar-re,' he says. ''Tis an informal rivolution,' he says.
"An' away he wint. At sharp five o'clock th' rivolution begun. Th'
sthreets was dinsely packed with busy journalists, polis, sojers, an'
fash'nably dhressed ladies who come down fr'm th' Chang's All Easy in
motocycles. There was gr-reat excitement as Jools come to th' windy
an' pinned a copy iv his vallyable journal on th' sill, accompanied be
a thrusty liftnant wavin' a statement iv th' circulation iv th'
Anti-Jew. Jools at this moment was a tur-rble sight. He was dhressed
fr'm head to foot in Harveyized, bomb-proof steel, with an asbestos
rose in his buttonhole. Round his waist was sthrapped four hundherd
rounds iv ca'tridges an' eight days' provisions. He car-rid a Mauser
rifle on each shoulder, a machine gun undher wan ar-rm, a dinnymite
bomb undher another, an' he was smoking a cigareet. 'Ladies an'
gintlemen,' he says, 'I'm proud an' pleased to see ye prisint in such
lar-rge numbers at th' first rivolution iv th' prisint season,' he
says. 'With th' kind permission iv th' hated polis undher th'
di-rection iv me good frind an' fellow-journalist, Loot Franswoo
Coppere, an' th' ar-rmy, f'r whose honor ivry Fr-renchman 'll lay down
his life, th' siege will now begin. We will not,' he says, 'lave this
house till we have driven ivry cur-rsed Cosmypollitan or Jew,' he
says, 'fr'm this noble land iv th' br-rave an' home iv th' flea,' he
says. 'Veev Fr-rance!' he says. 'Veev Jools Guerin!' he says.
'Conspuez Rothscheeld!' he says. 'It's ye'er move, Loot,' he says to
th' polisman.
"'I defer to th' ar-rmy whose honor is beyond reproach,' says th'
polisman, 'or recognition,' he says. 'Veev l'army!' he says.
"'Thank ye,' says Gin'ral Bellow, salutin'. 'I will do me jooty. Man
can do no more,' he says. 'Jools,' he says, 'surrinder,' he says. 'Ye
cannot longer hol' out,' he says. 'Ye have provisions on'y f'r eight
years.'
"'We will remain till th' last wan iv us perishes iv indigestion,'
says Jools.
"'Thin I must take sthrong measures,' says th' gin'ral. 'At a given
signal we will storm th' house, bate down th' dures, smash in th'
roofs, cut off th' gas, poison th' wather supply, back up th' sewer,
break th' windys, an' r-raise th' rint.'"
"'Do ye'er worst,' says Jools, proudly.
"'Thin,' says th' gin'ral, imprissively, 'if these measures do not
suffice, I will suspind th' deliv'ry iv th' mails,' he says.
"'Miscreant!' cries Jools, tur-rnin' white. 'An' this is called a
merciful governmint,' he says. 'Mong doo,' he says, 'what cr-rimes
will not Fr-rinchmen commit again' Fr-rinchmen!' he says. 'But,' he
says, 'ye little know us, if ye think we can be quelled be vi'lence,'
he says. 'I have a last card,' he says. 'I refuse to give th' signal,'
he says.
"'Thin,' says th' gin'ral, tur-rnin' away with tears in his eyes, 'we
must adopt other measures.'
"'Very well,' says Jools. 'But mark wan thing,--that, if ye attempt to
make me ridiculous, ye shall suffer.'
"'I assure ye, mong editor,' says th' gin'ral, earnestly, 'that th'
governmint will not make ye anny more ridiculous than it makes
itsilf,' says he.
"'Me honor is satisfied,' says Jools. 'Do ye'er worst,' he says.
"At eight o'clock th' minister iv war ar-rived, an' took command. He
ordhered up twinty rig'mints iv cav'lry, tin batthries iv artillery,
an' two divisions iv fut sojers. It was his intintion to sind th'
cav'lry in over th' roofs, while th' army carried th' front stoop,
protected be fire fr'm th' heavy artillery, while th' Fr-rinch navy
shelled th' back dure. But this was seen to be impossible, because th'
man that owned th' wine-shop next dure, he said 'twud dhrive away
custom. All th' sthreets f'r miles ar-round was blockaded without
effect. Th' fire departmint was called to put Jools out, but wather
niver touched him. Th' sewer gang wint down an' blocked th' dhrains,
an' Jools soon had inspiration f'r a year's writin'. At last accounts
th' garrison was still holdin' out bravely again a witherin' fire iv
canned food, lobsters, omelets, an' hams. A brave gossoon in th'
Sivinth Artill'ry did partic'larly effective wurruk, hur-rlin' a plate
iv scrambled eggs acrost th' sthreet without spillin' a dhrop, an' is
now thrainin' a pie like mother used to make on th' first windy iv th'
sicond flure. It is reported that th' minister iv war at four o'clock
to-morrow mornin' will dhrop a bundle iv copies iv Jools' paper
through th' chimbley. Whin he opens th' windy, a pome be Paul
Deroulede 'll be read to him. This is again th' articles iv war, but
th' case is desp'rate.
"But I was thinkin', Hinnissy, as I walked down th' Roo Chabrool, how
I'd like to see a Chicago polisman come sthrollin' along with his hat
on th' back iv his head. I don't love Chicago polismen. They seem to
think ivry man's head's as hard as their own. But I'd give forty-three
francs, or eight dollars an' sixty cints iv our money, if th' Fr-rinch
governmint 'd sind f'r Jawnny Shea, an' ask him to put down this here
rivolution. Th' nex' day they'd move th' office iv th' Anti-Seemite
Society to th' morgue."
THE DREYFUS CASE.
IV.
"Well, Hinnissy, to get back to Rennes. Whin I left off, th' air was
full iv rumors iv an approachin' massacree. It was still full at
daybreak. Exthraordinney measures was adopted to provide again
disturbance. Th' gyard was doubled, an' both polismen had all they cud
do to keep th' crowd in ordher. Th' English an' American journalists
appeared at th' thrile wrapped up in th' flags iv their rayspictive
counthries. All th' Jews, excipt th' owners iv anti-Jew papers fr'm
Paris, wore heavy masks an' kep' their hands in their pockets. At four
o'clock th' prisident called th' aujience to disordher, an', havin'
disentangled Gin'ral Merceer an' a former prisident iv th' raypublic,
demanded if Moosoo Bertillon was in th' room.
"'Here,' says that gr-reat janius, descindin' fr'm th' roof in a
parachute. Ye know Bertillon. Ye don't? Iv coorse ye do, Hinnissy.
He's th' la-ad that invinted th' system iv ditictive wurruk med aisy
that they use down in th' Cintral Polis Station. I mind wanst, afther
'twas inthrojooced, th' loot says to Andy Rohan,--he's a sergeant now,
be hivins!--he says, 'Go out,' he says, 'an' fetch in Mike McGool, th'
safe robber,' he says. 'Here's his description,' he says: 'eyelashes,
eight killomethres long; eyes, blue an' assymethrical; jaw,
bituminous; measuremint fr'm abaft th' left ear to base iv maxillory
glan's, four hectograms; a r-red scar runnin' fr'm th' noomo-gasthric
narve to th' sicond dorsal verteebree,' he says. 'Tis so. I have th'
description at home in th' cash dhrawer. Well, Andy come in about six
o'clock that night, lookin' as though he'd been thryin' to r-run a fut
race acrost a pile iv scrap ir'n; an' says he, 'Loot,' he says, 'I've
got him,' he says. "I didn't take th' measuremints,' he says,
'because, whin I pulled out th' tape line, he rowled me eighty
hectograms down th' sthreet,' he says. 'But 'tis Mike McGool,' he
says. 'I don't know annything about his noomo-gasthric narves,' he
says, 'but I reco'nized his face,' he says. 'I've r-run him in fifty
times,' he says.