with the loan of a cut on the head,
I always gave him a plaster of Latin to heal it; but the sorra worse
healin' flesh in the world than Tom's is for the Latin, so I bruised a
few Greek roots and laid them to his caput so nate, that you'd laugh
to see him. Well is it histhory we are to begin wid? If it is, come
on--advance. I'm ready for you--in protection--wid my guards up."

"Ha, ha, ha! Well, if he isn't the drollest crathur, an' so cute! But
now for the histhory. Can you prove to me, upon a clear foundation, the
differ atween black an' white, or prove that Phadrick Murray here,
long life to him, is an ass? Now, Phadrick, listen, for you must decide
betune us."

"Orra, have you no other larnin' than that to argue upon? Sure if you
call upon me to decide, I must give it agin Dinny. Why my judgment won't
be worth a hap'orth, if he makes an ass of me!"

"What matther how you decide, man alive, if he proves you to be one;
sure that is all we want. Never heed shakin' your head--listen an' it
will be well worth your while. Why, man, you'll know more nor you ever
knew or suspected before, when he proves you to be an ass."

"In the first place, fadher, you're ungrammatical in one word; instead
of sayin' 'prove,' always say probate, or probe; the word is descended,
that is, the ancisthor of it, is probo, a deep Greek word--probo,
probas, prob-ass, that is to say, I'm to probe Phadrick here to be
an ass. Now, do you see how pat I brought that in? That's the way,
Phadrick, I chastise my fadher with the languages."

"In throth it is; go an avick. Phadrick!"

"I'm listenin'."

"Phadrick, do you know the differ atween black an' white'?"

"Atween black an' white? Hut, gorsoon, to be sure I do."

"Well, an' what might it be, Phadrick, my larned Athiop? What might it
be, I negotiate?"

"Why, thin, the differ atween them is this, Dinny, that black is--let me
see--why--that black is not red--nor yallow--nor brown--nor green--nor
purple--not cut-beard--nor a heather color--nor a grog-ram"--

"Nor a white?"

"Surely, Dinny, not a white, abouchal; don't think to come over me that
way."

"But I want to know what color it is, most larned sager."

"All rasonable, Dinny, Why, thin, black is--let me see--hut, death
alive!--it's--a--a--why, it's black, an' that's all I can say about it;
yes, faix, I can--black is the color of Father Curtis's coat."

"An' what color is that, Phadrick?"

"Why, it's black, to be sure."

"Wel