“Begorra, I’ll have the best av yez or me name’s not O’Shea!” cried Barney, hilariously. “Shure, I’ll niver be downed by a naygur!”
“Clar away dar, I’ish!”
But Barney was in for a ruction.
“Whurroo!” he cried. “Here’s at yez!”
Then they went madly whirling about the cabin in a lively tussle.
It was hard to say which had the best of it.
It was certainly a lively contest, and honors were even until suddenly Barney tripped over a rug.
Then down went Pomp’s head, and plump into the Celt’s stomach it went.
Barney went down, and Pomp was on top of him. The darky hung to his man like a leech.
“Ki, dar! Yo’ am not in it wif dis chile!” he shrieked. “Yo’ am beat, I’ish!”