human
Phwat's dthis the papers do be sayin' about Mr. Cuttin', sor, he began, but, remembering himself, hastened to add,
gpt
Good-morning, sor. And how is Mr. Cutting this morning, sor?
human
The divils! and after a pause added, in a whisper,
gpt
Shure, Mr. Cuttin' can down the whole av thim—— Then, with a note of anxiety in his voice,
human
Can't he, now, sor?
gpt
And phwat's dthis, O'Connor went on, an angry look still more contracting his wizened face and concentrating all his features to a point at the tip of his short up-turned nose—
human
Not the money, I hastened to say;
gpt
Well—annyho-ow, 'tis a dommed lie, said O'Connor, thrusting out his square chin farther and farther with each word as it escaped from between the compressed wide lips, which at last opened in a far from pleasant grin, showing his still sound if ragged teeth, as he ejaculated, with fine distinctness,
human
The blay-gyards! and then asked, with sudden eagerness,
gpt
Do there be anny wan av thim oi knaw, now?
human
No, I said, laughingly,
gpt
Phwat Walker is this?
human
The former president,
gpt
It is, I replied.
human
George W. Walker.
gpt
An' _do I know him_! he exclaimed, leaning back and throwing up both hands, as if exhausted with amazement.
human
An' it's the loikes av him is fightin' Mr. Cuttin', is ut? I nodded.
gpt
Well, well, well! he murmured, softly.