Scarecrow. The sixpence is for the Government's little Intertainmints Tax, Sorr.
Farmer. Oh, go to the divil!
Scarecrow. Shure an' I will if yer honour'll give me a letther of inthroduction. We'll call ut a shillin', thin, and I'll sthand the loss mesilf.
[Farmer parts with the price and the Scarecrow dodges swiftly into the crowd. The Farmer peruses the card and frowns in a puzzled way; then the date catches his eye and he curses and tears the list to pieces.
Farmer. Drat take the little scut; he's sold me last year's kyard!
Cattle-Dealer (shouting). Hi, sthop him there!
Farmer. Whist, let him go. Let him trap some others first the way I'll not be the only mug on the market this day.
Trickster (setting up his table and jerking his cards about). I'm afther losin' a pony to thim robbers beyant, but, as Pierpont Rockafeller said to Jawn D. Morgan, "business is business, an' if ye don't speculate ye won't accumulate." Spot the dame and my money's yours; spot the blank and yours is mine. "The quickness of the hand deceives the eye, or vicy-versy," as Lord Carnegie remarked to Andrew Rothschild. Walk up, walk up, my sporty gintlemen and thry yer luck wid the owld firm.
Farmer. There go the harses down to the post. Who's that leadin' on the black?
Dealer. Young Misther Darley, no less. 'Tis a great fella for all kinds of divarsion he is, the same. I was beyant to Darleystown this week past and found him fightin' a main o'cocks before the fire in his grandmother's drawin'-room. Herself riz up off her bed and gave the two of us the father and mother of a dhrubbin' wid her crutch, an' she desthroyed wid the gout an' all.