s that makes th' childher nowadays turn out to curse
th' lives iv thim that give thim life? It may be in th' thrainin'. Whin
I was a kid, they were brought up to love, honor, an' respect th' ol'
folks, that their days might be long in th' land. Amen. If they didn't,
th' best they cud do was to say nawthin' about it. 'Twas th' back iv th'
hand an' th' sowl iv th' fut to th' la-ad that put his spoon first into
th' stirabout. Between th' whalin's we got at school h'isted on th' back
iv th' big boy that was bein' thrainned to be a Christyan brother an'
th' thumpin's we got at home, we was kept sore an' sthraight fr'm wan
year's end to another. 'Twas no mild doses they give us, ayether. I mind
wanst, whin I was near as big as I am now, I handed back some onkind
re-emarks to me poor father that's dead. May he rest in peace, per
Dominum! He must iv been a small man, an' bent with wurruk an' worry.
But did he take me jaw? He did not. He hauled off, an' give me a r-right
hook where th' bad wurruds come fr'm. I put up a pretty fight, f'r me
years; but th' man doesn't live that can lick his own father. He rowled
me acrost an oat-field, an' I give up. I didn't love him anny too well
f'r that lickin', but I respected him; an', if he'd come into this place
to-night,--an' he'd be near a hundherd: he was born in th' year '98, an'
pikes was hid in his cradle,--if he come in here to-night an' pulled me
ear, I'd fear to go again him. I wud so.

"'Tis th' other way about now. Did ye iver know a man be th' name iv
Ahearn? Ye did not? Well, maybe he was befure yer time. He was a cobbler
be thrade; but he picked up money be livin' off iv leather findings an'
wooden pegs, an' bought pieces iv th' prairie, an' starved an' bought
more, an' starved an' starved till his heart was shrivelled up like a
washerwoman's hand. But he made money. An' th' more he made, th' more he
wanted, an', wantin' nawthin' more, it come to him fr'm the divvle, who
kept th' curse f'r his own time. This man Ahearn, whin he had acres an'
acres on Halsted Sthreet, an' tinants be th' scoor that prayed at nights
f'r him that he might live long an' taste sorrow, he marrid a girl. Her
name was Ryan, a little, scared, foolish woman; an' she died whin a boy
was bor-rn. Ahearn give her a solemn rayqueem high mass an' a monument
at Calv'ry that ye can see fr'm th' fun'ral thrain. An' he come fr'm th'
fun'ral with th' first smile on his face that anny man iver see there,
an' th' bab