ut come out be th' tote-road, an' mad clean t'rough to
th' gizzard. No wan hadn't seed um, an' they clum aboord th' thrain,
cursin' an' swearin' vingince on Creed phwin they caught um.

"Thin, maybe it's two wakes afther, we wuz settin' in Burrage's phwin
th' dure bust open, an' in come Rad Cranston loike th' divil wuz afther
um.

"'They's a woild man,' he yells, 'come out av th' woods, an' he's
tearin' things up in Creed's cabin!'

"Hod picks up a cleaver an' makes fer th' dure, wid us follyin' um,
afther providin' oursilves wid what utinsils wuz layin' handy--a scythe
here an' an axe there, an' some wan ilse wid a pitchfork. Rad brung up
lasht wid a sixteen-pound posht-maul, bein' in no hurry at all fer
another luk.

"Trut' is, none av us wuz in no great hurry--Creed's woman havin'
cashed his pay-check an' skipped out--but at lasht we come to phwere we
c'd see th' place, an' sure enough th' dure shtood open an' insoide
come a racket av shmashin' furniture an' yellin' 'tw'd done proud to
camp-meetin' salvation.

"Thin come a foine loud rattle av glass, an' out t'rough a windie come
th' half av a chair, follyed be a len'th av shtovepoipe an' a grane
glass wather-pitcher.

"Fer me own part, Oi'd seed such loike brick-a-brack befoor, an'
besides Oi remimbered a dhrink Oi hadn't tuk earlier in th' evenin', so
Oi shtarted workin' me way to th' back av th' crowd, th' bether some
wan ilse c'd see.

"Oi'd no more thin tur-rned around phwin wid a whoop, 'tw'd wake th'
dead, out t'rough th' windie come th' domnedest-lukin' cryther this
side av Borneo, a wavin' over his head wan av th' owld lady Creed's rid
cotton table-cloths--an' niver another stitch to his name but a leather
belt wid about six inches av pants a hangin' onto ut, an' a pair av
corked boots.

"Phwin Oi shtar-rted from Burrage's Oi laid holt av a man's-size
crowbar, but at that minit th' thing Oi helt in me hand luked about th'
heft av a tinpinny nail. Be that toime all th' others wuz av loike
moind to me. They wuz considerable crowdin', an', bein' crippled, Oi
dhropped me crowbar an' laid a good holt on th' tail av Hod's coat.

"Th' shtore wuz clost by, an' we had a good shtart; but th' thing that
wuz afther us wuz thravelin' loight an' in foorty-fut leps.

"'Twuz a good race, an' wan Oi wanted to win; but, owin' to th'
unyversal willin'ness av th' crowd to get into th' shtore, we plugged
up th' dureway, an' befoor we c'd get unstuck th' thing wuz on