But now came the tug of war; two "colored ladies" made their appearance, for a small bill of seven dollars, for washing and ironing the dickeys and fine linen of the Flashes.
"An' de fac am," says the one, "we's bound to hab de money, shuah!"
It did not seem to take when Flannigan informed his colored friends that they were surely done, as their debtor had "cut his lucky" and gone!
The darkies felt inclined to be sassy, and Flannigan closed the door, ordering them to create a vacancy by clearing out, and just as he closed the door, ring goes the bell!
"Be gor," says a brawny "adopted citizen," planting his brogan upon the sill, as Flannigan opened the door—"I've come wid me coz-zin to git her wages, ye's owin' her!"
"Me? Owe you?" cries poor Flannigan.
"Igh!" says Paddy, trying to push his way into the hall.
"Stand back, you scoundrel!" cries Flannigan.
"Scoun-thril!" roars the outraged "adopted citizen."
"Stand back, you infernal ruffian!" exclaims Flannigan, as Paddy makes a rush to grab him.