"So Oi tuk the steak an' takin' a good grip av it, Oi slammed it around his big Dootch ears till he yelled bloody murther in fourteen languages. 'The nixt toime ye sell me goat fer Spring lamb, ye thavin' Dootchman'—an' Oi kept bastin' him around the ugly lugs—'the nixt toime ye sell me goat, Oi say, Oi'll make ye ate his whuskers.'"
—N. Y. World.
Sam Wellerisms.
"It is a paneful sight," as the man said when his host took him out to inspect his new conservatory.
"You are a counter attraction," as the masher whispered to the pretty girl in the confectioner's shop.
"Teeth inserted without gas," as the fellow who owned a savage dog inscribed on a board outside his garden gate.
"He is suffering from organic diseases," as the doctor observed when he was called in to prescribe for a man who had been driven wild by a peripatetic piano-organ.
"She is painted by Heaven," as the enthusiastic young man exclaimed when he beheld a girl with a beautiful complexion.