Sublime

“Father’s got the sack from the water–works For smoking of his old cherry–briar; Father’s got the sack from the water–works ‘Cos he might set the water–works on fire.”

Poor John Field!—I trust he does not read this, unless he will improve by it—thinking to live by some derivative old-country mode in this primitive new country—to catch perch with shiners. It is good bait sometimes, I allow. With his horizon all his own, yet he a poor man, born to be poor, with his inherited Irish poverty or poor life, his Adam’s g

Urk’s manners are coarse and his mountain lion pelt could stand a good laundering, but he turns out to be a pretty cool dude.

And if it was for any sort of a fine handsome woman, but for a little fistful of a woman like Kitty Keary, that’s not four feet high hardly, and not three teeth in her head unless she got new ones!