"Oh! you ain't, eh? Well, that's all right. Here's good luck to your liberal soul," and placing the flask to his lips, he poured about half its contents down his throat.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, as he set down the flask, "that's pretty good; must be some of McCarthy's best. Better get some more of it when you're there again. Don't forget, Jake."
"So 'elp me gracious, Parney, dot vos an awful cheek you've got."
"Think so?"
"Think so!" echoed Jake, as he put up the half-emptied flask. "Holy Moses! if I have dot cheek, I vos rich. I vould always have blenty ov 'prass' apout me, you see—ha! ha!"
"Well, I admit it has been of some service to me, and I fancy it will assist me through the remainder of my life—to a considerable extent."
"Dere vos no doubt of dot, you pet."
"Not much, I guess. But then, you know, Jake, I need a little cheek to travel with you!"
"By Father Abraham!" muttered Jake, meaningly, "I pet you need somedings after this, my poy, so it vas pest you look out."
"What are you growling about now?" demanded Barney, sharply.