hands, cryin', 'A base Cap
Dhry-fuss!' th' cap bein' far off in a cage, by dad. So far, so good. 'A
base Cap Dhry-fuss!' says I; 'an' the same to all thraitors, an' manny
iv thim, whether they ar-re or not.' But along comes a man with a poor
hat. 'Where did he get th' hat?' demands th' mob. Down with th' bad
tile!' they say. 'A base th' lid!' An' they desthroy th' hat, an' th'
man undher it succumbs to th' rule iv th' majority an' jines th' mob. On
they go till they come to a restaurant. 'Ha,' says they, 'th' re-sort iv
th' infamious Duclose.' 'His char-rges ar-re high,' says wan. 'I found a
fish-bone in his soup,' says another. 'He's a thraitor,' says a third.
'A base th' soup kitchen! A base th' caafe!' says they; an' they seize
th' unfortunate Duclose, an' bate him an' upset his kettles iv broth.
Manetime where's Cap Dhry-fuss? Off in his comfortable cage, swingin' on
th' perch an' atin' seed out iv a small bottle stuck in th' wire. Be th'
time th' mob has desthroyed what they see on th' way, they've f'rgot th'
Cap intirely; an' he's safe f'r another day.

"'Tis unforch'nit, but 'tis thrue. Th' Fr-rinch ar-re not steady ayether
in their politics or their morals. That's where they get done be th'
hated British. Th' diff'rence in furrin' policies is the diff'rence
between a second-rate safe blower an' a first-class boonco steerer. Th'
Fr-rinch buy a ton iv dinnymite, spind five years in dhrillin' a hole
through a steel dure, blow open th' safe, lose a leg or an ar-rm, an'
get away with th' li'bilities iv th' firm. Th' English dhress up f'r a
Methodist preacher, stick a piece iv lead pipe in th' tails iv their
coat in case iv emargency, an' get all th' money there is in th' line.

"In th' fr-ront dure comes th' Englishman with a coon king on ayether
ar-rm that's jus' loaned him their kingdoms on a prom'ssory note, and
discovers th' Fr-rinchman emargin' frim th' roons iv th' safe. 'What
ar-re ye doin' here?' says th' Englishman. 'Robbin' th' naygurs,' says
th' Fr-rinchman, bein' thruthful as well as polite. 'Wicked man,' says
th' Englishman. 'What ar-re ye doin' here?' says the Fr-rinchman.
'Improvin' the morals iv th' inhabitants,' says th' Englishman. 'Is it
not so, Rastus?' he says. 'It is,' says wan iv th' kings. 'I'm a poorer
but a betther man since ye came,' he says. 'Yes,' says th' Englishman,
'I pro-pose f'r to thruly rayform this onhappy counthry,' he says. 'This
benighted haythen on me exthreme left has been i