"Yeah, but this is different."
"Whut's so different about a riot in a jernt like McCarthy's on a street like Boylston?"
"Well, the witnesses say it wuz started by a guy wearin' feathers instead uv hair."
"A bird, you mean."
"Naw. 'Twas a big fella, according to tales. A huge guy that refused to take off his hat and they made a fuss. They offered to toss him out until he uncovered, and when he did, here was this full head of feathers. There was a general titter that roared up into a full laugh. The guy got mad."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. He got mad and made a few swings. 'Twas quite a riot."
"What did McCarthy expect—a dance? When a guy gets laughed at for having feathers instead of hair.... Holy St. Patrick! Feathers, did ye say?"
"Yup."
"Look, O'Leary," growled McDowell angrily, "you've not been drinkin' yourself, have ye?"