“It’s durable,” agreed Oscar, “but not musical.”
“That’s all accordin’ to yore ears,” said Tommy owlishly. “Fer my part, I don’t want it too damn’ musical. And who has a better right to shing. I’d crave to know? Wasn’t it one of Ole’s anchestors who dis-dischovered this wonnerful land?”
“What’s the joke?” asked Oscar.
“Th’t a fact,” agreed Ole. “He shore discovered America.”
“Hey!” snorted Oscar. “You ain’t no Eyetalian, Ole. Columbus was an Eyetalian, you big Swede.”
“Shore was; but he never discovered thish country. It was my grandfather, I tell yuh; old man Erickson.”
“Yore grandfather?”
“Sure as hell. My mother’s name was Erickson, and she married a Olsen.”
“Which makes you a Swedish cowpuncher in spite of anythin’,” said Tommy seriously. “But how about a shong?”
“With all that behind me, I could have been anythin’ I wanted to be,” declared Ole, his chest swelling visibly.