“That’s right,” said the conductor. Then with a sigh he added, “Sure, but thim was the happy days.”
“What made you quit the stage?” asked Green.
“It was on me wife’s account,” said the ex-Thespian. “She got so she couldn’t stand it no longer, me bustin’ thim cobblestones on her head.”
“Gave her headaches, I suppose,” said Green.
“No, not that,” said Brennan. “It bruk her arches down.”
§ 115 At the Crossing of the Ways
Beyond question his Honor on the bench was cross-eyed. Some persons went so far as to say that he was the crossest-eyed person or the cross-eyedest person, as the grammar may be, in the known world.
On a morning when for some reason or other his angles of vision seemed particularly out of alignment there were arraigned before him for preliminary examination three youths charged with hypothecating a stranger’s automobile to their own use. The oldest of the trio, and the supposed ringleader, stood between his two alleged confederates. Addressing the middle one the judge said:
“Young man, you are accused here of grand larceny. How do you plead, guilty or not guilty?”
Instantly the one on the left said: