Harts. ’Pon my word, I don’t know. S’pose you dwive down yourself.
Green. Me? When I do, just inform me—will you? (Noise again outside.) Halloo! Who’s this?
Enter Finnegan, R.
Fin. Is the prisidint widin, I dunno?
Green. Well, I do. He is; and I am he.
Fin. Yer are—are yez? O, yer spalpeen! and it’s there ye are, thaif!
Green. Come, come; be a little more respectful.
Fin. Respictful, is it? By my sowl, and ain’t you the sarvant of the public? and ain’t I the public, bedad? What do yer mean by kaping me standing outside there squatting in a car, and waiting to be took to the arms of Biddy and the childers, afther I’ve fit, bled, and died for ould Ireland up in Can-a-dy, shure I’d like to know?
Hart. Good gwacious! what a fewocious foweigner!
Fin. And who the deuce are you, onyhow? You chatter like a monkey, and you look like a baboon! By my sowl, I believe you’re Barnum’s What Is It!