On the other hand Doran is reeling in an ecstasy of mischievous mirth which has infected all his friends. They are screaming with laughter, doubled up, leaning on the furniture and against the walls, shouting, screeching, crying.
AUNT JUDY [as the noise lulls for a moment]. Arra hold your noise, Barney. What is there to laugh at?
DORAN. It got its fut into the little hweel—[he is overcome afresh; and the rest collapse again].
AUNT JUDY. Ah, have some sense: you're like a parcel o childher. Nora, hit him a thump on the back: he'll have a fit.
DORAN [with squeezed eyes, exsuflicate with cachinnation] Frens, he sez to dhem outside Doolan's: I'm takin the gintleman that pays the rint for a dhrive.
AUNT JUDY. Who did he mean be that?
DORAN. They call a pig that in England. That's their notion of a joke.
AUNT JUDY. Musha God help them if they can joke no better than that!
DORAN [with renewed symptoms]. Thin—
AUNT JUDY. Ah now don't be tellin it all over and settin yourself off again, Barney.