tention of the former with the unmistakable appeal of
the candidate in his demeanor.

"I want a job," said Dennis simply.

"Phwat?" inquired the foreman sharply, staring at the mosaic of
physiognomy and accent embodied in Dennis.

"I want a job," repeated Dennis. "I nade wurk."

There was no mistaking the peculiar burr in the utterance of the last
two words, but the foreman continued to regard the speaker with
suspicious amazement.

"Phwat are ye, annyway?" he said with guarded brusqueness.

"A poor man, sir; I nade wurk."

"Oi don't mane that," with less severity at this frank acknowledgment;
"but where do yez hail from--Limerick or Jerusalem?"

At this pointed question, which promptly reminded Dennis of the singular
contradiction he presented, he replied, with a genuine Celtic adroitness
that had an immediate effect upon his hearer:

"Nayther; I got off at the midway junction."

"Ha, ha!" laughed the foreman, as he appreciated this clever explanation
of the singular compromise presented by Dennis. "Shure, that's not bad.
By the mug ye wear, I wud advise ye to go to Baxther Street, but by the
sound av ye, Oi rickommind th' Broadway squad. Wurrk, is it? Why don't
ye presint that face at th' front? I hear they're shy on editors."

"Shure!" said Dennis, who believed that he was progressing; "but the
only things I iver wrote were store signs."

"Ah, ha!" replied the foreman, "so it's handy with th' brush ye are."

"Yes," answered Dennis.

"Wait a bit," said the foreman, and pointing to a marking-outfit he
directed Dennis to display his name and address upon a smooth pine board
which he provided for that purpose:

DENNIS MULDOON,
The Stag Hotel,
Vesey St.,
N.Y.

"Ah, ha!" cried the foreman as he contrasted the name with the
incongruous face of the young man before him, "ye don't have to play it
on a flute, annyway; there's nothin' Sheeny about that." Then, directing
his attention to the character of the work itself, he added: "That's not
bad at all, at all. See here," he said abruptly, as he picked up the
board which Dennis had decorated and fastened it to the warehouse wall
with a nail, "Oi'll kape that for riferince. Oh, Oi mane it," he said
with gruff assurance, as he noted the disappointment which shadowed the
expressive face before him; "an' mebbe ye won't have to wait so long,
nayther."