"Well," says the dealer, "if you can get out of town with him, it will be more than I can do!"
Say, I went on the road with a post office inspector last year.
First post office we struck, a big, strong Irish woman was behind the counter.
"Ahem!" said the inspector. "I thought a man was in charge here!"
"Begorra, ye're roight, he was," said the lady; "but Oi married him, an' Oi'm in charge now. Pfwat is it yez want?"
She was a Tartar, I tell you.
I wonder what Mr. Man was doing. Maybe he had the cradle to rock.
I was in jail last month. Oh, only as a visitor, of course. I needn't explain that. Went the rounds of the cells with the governor of the State.
Well, we struck one man who was the homeliest specimen of humanity I've ever seen.