"Well," I ansered, "I'm very glad you do, becaus I don't."This made the Finians larf, and they said, "Walk up onto the speaker's platform sir."The speeches was red hot agin England, and hir iron heel, and it was resolved to free Ireland at onct.But it was much desirable before freein her that a large quantity of funds should be raised.And, like the gen'rous souls as they was, funs was lib'rally contribooted.Then arose a excitin discussion as to which head center they should send 'em to--O'Mahony or McRoberts.There was grate excitement over this, but it was finally resolved to send half to one and half to 'tother.
Then Mr.Finnigan rose and said, "We have here to-night sum citizens of American birth, whom we should be glad to hear.It would fill our harts with speechless joy to hear from a man whose name towers high in the zoological and wax-figger world--from whose pearly lips--Says I, "Go slow, Finny, go slow."
"We wish to hear," continued Mr.Finnigan, moderatin his stile summut, "from our townsman, Mr.Ward."I beg'd to be declined, but it wan't no use.I rose amid a perfeck uproar of applause.
I said we had convened there in a meetin, as I understood it, or rather in a body, as it were, in reference to Ireland.If I knew my own hart, every one of us there, both grate and small had an impulse flowin in his boosum, "and consequentially," I added, we "will stick to it similar and in accordance therewith, as long as a spark of manhood, or the peple at large.That's the kind of man I be!"Squire Thaxter interrupted me.The Squire feels the wrongs of Ireland deeply, on accounts of havin onct courted the widder of a Irish gentleman who had lingered in a loathsum dunjin in Dublin, placed there by a English tarvern-keeper, who despotically wanted him to pay for a quantity of chops and beer he had consoom'd.
Besides, the Squire wants to be re-elected Justice of the Peace.
"Mr.Ward," he said, "you've bin drinkin.You're under the infloo'nce of licker, sir!"Says I, "Squire, not a drop of good licker has passed my lips in fifteen years.
[Cries of "Oh, here now, that won't do."]
"It is troo," I said."Not a drop of good licker has passed my lips in all that time.I don't let it pass 'em.I reach for it while it's goin by!" says I."Squire, harness me sum more!""I beg pardon," said the Squire, "for the remark; you are sober; but what on airth are you drivin at?""Yes!" I said, "that's just it.That's what I've bin axin myself during the entire evenin.What is this grate meetin drivin at?
What's all the grate Finian meetins drivin at all over the country?
"My Irish frens, you know me well enuff to know that I didn't come here to disturb this meetin.Nobody but a loafer will disturb any kind of a meetin.And if you'll notice it, them as are up to this sort of thing, allers come to a bad end.There was a young man--Iwill not mention his name--who disturb'd my show in a certain town, two years ago, by makin remarks disrespectful of my animals, accompanied by a allosan to the front part of my hed, which, as you see, it is Bald--sayin,-- says this young man, 'You sandpaper it too much, but you've got a beautiful head of hair in the back of your neck, old man.' This made a few ignent and low-mindid persons larf;but what was the fate of that young man? In less than a month his aunt died and left him a farm in Oxford county, Maine! The human mind can pictur no grater misfortun than this.
"No, my Irish frens, I am here as your naber and fren.I know YOUare honest in this Finian matter.
"But let us look at them Head Centers.Let us look at them rip-roarin orators in New York, who've bin tearin round for up'ards a year, swearin Ireland shall be free.
"There's two parties--O'McMahoneys and McO'Roberts.One thinks the best way is to go over to Canady and establish a Irish Republic there, kindly permittin the Canadians to pay the expenses of that sweet Boon; and the other wants to sail direck for Dublin Bay, where young McRoy and his fair young bride went down and was drownded, accordin to a ballad I onct heard.But there's one pint on which both sides agree--that's the Funs.They're willin, them chaps in New York, to receive all the Funs you'll send 'em.You send a puss tonight to Mahony, and another puss to Roberts.Both will receive 'em.You bet.And with other pusses it will be sim'lar.
"I went into Mr.Delmonico's eatin-house the other night, and I saw my fren Mr.Terence McFadden, who is a elekent and enterprisin deputy Centre.He was sittin at a table, eatin a canvas-back duck.
Poultry of that kind, as you know, is rather high just now.I think about five dollars per Poult.And a bottle of green seal stood before him.
"'How are you, Mr.McFadden?' I said.
"'Oh, Mr.Ward! I am miserable--miserable! The wrongs we Irishmen suffers! Oh, Ireland! Will a troo history of your sufferins ever be written? Must we be ever ground under by the iron heel of despotic Briton? But, Mr.Ward, won't you eat suthin?'
"'Well,' I said 'if there's another caanvas-back and a spare bottle of that green seal in the house, I wouldn't mind jinin you in bein ground under by Briton's iron heel.'
"'Green turtle soup, first?' he said.
"'Well, yes.If I'm to share the wrongs of Ireland with you, Idon't care if I do have a bowl of soup.Put a bean into it,' I said to the waiter.'It will remind me of my childhood days, when we had 'em baked in conjunction with pork every Sunday mornin, and then all went up to the village church, and had a refreshin nap in the fam'ly pew.'
"Mr.McFadden, who was sufferin so thurily for Ireland, was of the Mahony wing.I've no doubt that some ekally patriotic member of the Roberts wing was sufferin in the same way over to the Mason-Dory eatin-house.
"They say, feller-citizens, soon you will see a Blow struck for Irish liberty! We hain't seen nothin BUT a Blow, so far--it's bin all blow, and the blowers in New York won't git out of Bellusses as long as our Irish frens in the rooral districks send 'em money.
