hers not
so much. It grows tiresome afther awhile. I confess to ye,
Algernon Hinnissy, that befure th' monkey was inthrajooced, I was
sufferin' fr'm what Hogan calls onwee, which is th' same thing as
ingrowin' money. I had got tired iv puttin' new storeys on me
cottage an' ridin' up in th' ilivator fr'm th' settin' room on
th' eighth flure to th' dinin' room on th' twinty-ninth, I didn't
care about ayether thrap-shootin' or autymobillin', I felt like
givin' a cawrnation dinner to th' poor iv th' village an' feedin'
thim me polo ponies, I didn't care whether th' champagne bar'ls
was kept iced, whether th' yacht was as long as th' wan ownded be
th' Ginger Snap king nex' dure, whether I had three or tin millyon
dollars in me pants pocket in th' mornin' or whether th' Poles in
th' coal mine was sthrikin' f'r wan dollar an' forty-siven or wan
dollar an' forty-eight cints a day. I was tired iv ivrything.
Life had me be th' throat, th' black dog was on me back. I felt
like suicide or wurruk. Thin come th' bright idee iv me young
frind an' th' monkey saved me. He give me something to live f'r.
Perhaps we too may be monkeys some day an' be amusin'. We don't
talk half as loud or look half as foolish or get dhrunk half as
quick, but give us a chanst. We're a young people an' th' monkeys
is an old, old race. They've been Newportin' f'r cinchries. Sure
that ol' la-ad who said man was descinded fr'm monkeys knew what
he was talkin' about. Descinded, but how far?

"Now, don't go gettin' cross about th' rich, Hinnissy. Put up
that dinnymite. Don't excite ye'ersilf about us folks in Newport.
It's always been th' same way, Father Kelly tells me. Says he:
'If a man is wise, he gets rich an' if he gets rich, he gets
foolish, or his wife does. That's what keeps th' money movin'
around. What comes in at th' ticker goes out at th' wine agent.
F'river an' iver people have been growin' rich, goin' down to some
kind iv a Newport, makin' monkeys iv thimsilves an' goin' back to
th' jungle. 'Tis a steady pro-cission. Aisy come, lazy go. In
ivry little hamlet in this broad land, there's some man with a
broad jaw an' th' encouragement iv a good woman, makin' ready to
shove some other man off his steam yacht. At this very minyit
whin I speak, me frind Jawn Grates has his eye on Hankerbilk's
house. He wud swing a hammock in th' woodshed this year, but nex'
he may have his feet up on th' bannister iv th' front stoop. Whin
a ca