' 'He's explodin' th'
prolotoorio,' he says. 'Sure,' says I, 'th' prolotoorio can explode
thimsilves pretty well,' says I. 'He oughtn't to be allowed to live in
luxury while others starve,' he says. 'An' wud ye be killin' a man f'r
holdin' a nice job?' says I. 'What good wud it do ye?' says I. 'I'd be
th' emancipator iv th' people,' says he. 'Ye'd have th' wurred on th'
coffin lid,' says I. 'Why,' says he, 'think iv me, Schmitt, Owgoost
Schmitt, stalkin' forth to avinge th' woes iv th' poor,' he says.
'Loodwig, th' cursed, goes by. I jumps fr'm behind a three an' society
is freed fr'm th' monsther,' he says. 'Think iv th' glory iv it,' he
says. 'Owgoost Schmitt, emancipator,' he says. 'I'll prove to Mary Ann
that I'm a man,' he says. Mary Ann was his wife. Her maiden name was
Riley. She heard him say it. 'Gus,' says she, 'if iver I hear iv ye
shootin' e'er a king I'll lave ye,' she says."
"Well, sir, I thought he was jokin', but be hivins, wan day he
disappeared, an' lo an' behold, two weeks afther I picks up a pa-aper
an' r-reads that me brave Schmitt was took up be th' polis f'r thryin'
to cop a monarch fr'm behind a three. I sint him a copy iv a pa-aper
with his pitcher in it, but I don't know if iver he got it. He's over
there now an' his wife is takin' in washin'.
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