Tom recently imported one of his poor relatives to this country. His name was Pat Sullivan.
Pat was a very thick Irishman, and as he had never seen a railroad in Erin-Go-Bra-a-a-a-ha, he couldn't get it into his head how it worked.
Finally Tom took him up a railroad track to explain the matter to him.
When they were rounding a curve, between two high embankments, a train came thundering behind them.
"Run up the bank for your life," cried Tom, and set a good example by doing it himself.
Pat, however, dug straight down the track, and it was not long before the train overtook him and hurled him forty feet away.
"Ye lobster," says Tom, "whoi didn't you run up the bank as I told you?"
"Begob," says Pat, "if I couldn't beat that bloomin' thing on the level, what chance did I stand running uphill?"