“Mebby that’s true.”
“No, it ain’t.”
“How do yer know?”
“How do I know? Why, quick as I read it I tried it meself—an’ they kicked me out.”
Pat, with a little bit of drink in him, was standing on the sidewalk sneering at a Jewish peddler. The peddler stood the jeers for some time, but Pat became too personal.
“Don’t you know,” said the Hebrew, “that the country is financed by the Jews?”
“Maybe they does,” retorted Pat, “but bejabbers the Irish runs it.”