Barney could not hold in his mirth any longer, for the comical antics of the coon tickled him immensely.
“Roon ye spalpeen, roon!” he yelled, popping up from behind the dynamo. “If yez lucks back, yez will busht loike a bomb!”
Pomp paused.
It instantly flashed across his mind that Barney was responsible for the shocks he received, for the Celt was laughing immoderately.
“Lord amassa!” he gasped. “Yo’ done dat, I’ish?”
“Is it ter me yez are alludin’ wid disrespect?”
“Jes’ tell me dat—yo’ done gib me dat ‘lectricity?”
“Faix, it’s an insoolt yez trow me be yez suspishey!”
“Once mo’, Barney O’Shea,” roared Pomp. “Yo’ done dat?”
“Do yez take me for an electric eel?”