O’Rourke advances forward looking admiringly at himself in a new suit of clothes.
O’Rourke. Begorra, it’s a foine display Oi’m makin’ now. Oi’m a worker from Cork so Oi am, and—(sees Gussie) Oh! take it away, take it away!
Gus. This is Mr. O’Rourke, I believe. I must take the liberty of introducing myself. I am Gussie de Smythe, Grand Illustrious Scribe and Supreme Confidential Clerk to his Majesty, Santa Claus, Ruler of the Kingdom of the North Pole.
O’Rourke. (aside) He looks like a grand illustrated squib from “Puck.” (aloud) Oi say, could you say that again and say it real slow? You ought to be more careful about makin’ payple acquainted wid doubtful characters. Howsomever, Oi don’t moind a little thing loike that in a could counthry loike this. Oi’m quite fond of curiosities moiself, so Oi am.
Gus. Sir, this unseemly levity is far from being as clevah as you suppose, in fact it is quite the contrary, doncherno; but to proceed to business—you know the purpose for which you were brought here, do you not?
O’Rourke. Well thin, Oi don’t jist that same; Oi don’t know nawthin’ about it at all, at all an’ that’s phwat’s the matter with me, so it is.
Gus. Then I can enlighten you upon that point. You were brought here to ascend the throne and become the successor of Santa Claus as ruler of the Kingdom of the North Pole.
O’Rourke. You don’t say; an’ how much will Oi git fur that job now?
Gus. Oh! you will have this beautiful palace, innumerable servants and countless wealth at your disposal.
O’Rourke. But how about the wurruk? Phwat’s moy hours?