ye!
I'll crack yer blitherin' Eyetalian skull with a pick, I will! I'll
chuck ye in yer waut fer the concrete till ye choke, ye flat-footed,
leather-headed lunatic! I'll tache ye to waalk aaf an' l'ave the hole
open, an' me in it. Now, be Jasus, get yer coat an' get out av this.
Get--I'm tellin' ye! I'll have no more thruck with ye! I'll throuble no
more with ye. Ye're no damned good. Out with ye! An' niver show me yer
face again!" And he made a motion as if he would grab him and rend him
limb from limb.

Jimmie, well aware of his dire position, was too clever, however, to let
Rourke seize him. During all this conversation he had been slowly
backing away, always safely beyond Rourke's reach, and now ran--an
amazing feat for him. He had evidently been through many such scenes
before. He retreated first behind the depot, and then when Rourke had
gone to work once more down in his hole, came back and took a safe
position on guard over the hitherto sadly neglected opening. When the
next train came he was there to shove the boards over before it neared
the station, and nothing more was said about the matter. Rourke did not
appear to notice him. He did not even seem to see that he was there. The
next morning, however, when the latter came to work as usual, it was,
"Come, Matt! Come, Jimmie!" just as if nothing had happened. I was never
more astonished in my life.

An incident, even more ridiculous, but illustrative of the atmosphere in
which Rourke dwelt, occurred at Highbridge one frosty October Sunday
morning, where because of seepage from a hill which threatened to
undermine some tracks, Rourke was ordered to hurry and build a drain--a
thing which, because the order came on Saturday afternoon, required
Sunday labor, a most unusual thing in his case. But in spite of the
order, Rourke, who was a good Catholic, felt impelled before coming to
go to at least early mass, and in addition--a regular Sunday practice
with him, I presume--to put on a long-skirted Prince Albert coat, which
I had never seen before and which lent to his stocky figure some amusing
lines. It was really too tight, having been worn, I presume, every
Sunday regularly since his wedding day. In addition, he had donned a
brown derby hat which, to me at least, gave him a most unfamiliar look.

I, being curious more than anything else and wishing to be out of doors
as much as possible, also went up, arriving on the scene about nine.
Rourke did not arrive unti