"Nivir for a momint. Those were only thricks intindid to disave and schtoopeefy the Amirican and English governmints."
"So your true aim refers to America?"
"Yis. And we intind to saycure to Amirica a perpetual succession of
Oirish prisidints."
"When will you be able to begin? At the next election?"
"No—not so soon. Not for two or three to come. By the third elicton though, all the Oirish populeetion will be riddy to vote, and thin we'll have our oun Oirish Prisidint. And afther that," said O'Halloran, in an oracular tone, and pausing to quaff the transparent draught— "afther that, Amirica will be simplee an Oirish republic. Then we'll cast our oys across the say. We'll cast there our arrums. We'll sind there our flates and armies. We'll take vingince out of the Saxon for the wrongs of foive cinturies. We'll adopt Ould Oireland into the fameelee of the Steetes, as the youngest, but the fairist and the broightist of thim all. We'll throw our laygions across the Oirish Channel into the land of the Saxon, and bring that counthry down to its proimayval insignifeecance. That," said O'Halloran, "is the one sehtoopindous eem of the Fenian Ordher."
O'Halloran showed deep emotion. Once more he quaffed the restoring draught.
"Yis, me boy," he said, looking tenderly at me. "I'll yit return to the owld land. Perhaps ye'll visit the eeged O'Halloran before he doise. Oi'll teek up me risidince at Dublin. Oi'll show ye Oircland—free— troiumphint, shuprame among the neetions. Oi'll show ye our noble pisintry, the foinist in the wurruld. Oi'll take ye to the Rotondo. Oi'll show ye the Blarney-stone. Oi'll show ye the ruins of Tara, where me oun ancisthors once reigned."
At this his emotion overcame him, and he was once more obliged to seek a restorative.
After this he volunteered to sing a song, and trolled off the following to a lively, rollicking air:
"'Ye choonfol Noine!
Ye nymphs devoine,
Shuprame in Jove's dominions!
Assist me loyre,
Whoile oi aspoire
To cilibreet the Fenians.