"
"Well, th' la-ad wint at it, an' 'twas a fine paper he made. Hogan was
in here th' other day with a copy iv it an' I r-read it. I haven't had
such a lithry threat since I was a watchman on th' canal f'r a week with
nawthin' to r-read but th' delinquent tax list an' the upper half iv a
weather map. 'Twas gran'. Th' editor, it seems, Hinnissy, wint into th'
editoryal rooms iv th' pa-aper an' he gathered th' force around him fr'm
their reg'lar jobs in th' dhrug stores, an' says he, 'Gintlemen,' he
says, 'tell me ye'er plans f'r to enoble this here Christyan publication
f'r to-day!' he says. 'Well,' says th' horse rayporther, 'they's a
couple iv rabbits goin' to sprint around th' thrack at th' fair
groun's,' he says. I think 'twud be a good thing f'r rellijon if ye'd
lind me tin that I might br-reak th' sin-thralled bookys that come down
here fr'm Kansas City f'r to skin th' righteous,' he says. 'No,' says
th' editor, he says, 'no horse racin' in this paper,' he says. ''Tis th'
roonation iv th' young, an' ye can't beat it,' he says. 'An' you, fair-
haired youth,' he says, 'what d'ye do that makes ye'er color so good an'
ye'er eye so bright?' 'I,' says th' la-ad, 'am th' boy that writes th'
fightin' dope,' he says. 'They'se a couple iv good wans on at th' op'ra
house to-night, an' if his Spiklets don't tin-can 'tis like findin'
money in an ol' coat that--' 'Fightin',' says th' editor, 'is a crool
an' onchristyan spoort,' he says.
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