ift a thrain betther or higher
thin a free-born American lady. At th' side iv her majesty walked
th' beautiful Duchess iv Binkie-whistle, born Lucy hicks iv Dobbs
Ferry. Th' Duchess' father an' mother come over las' week with
their respictive fam'lies, an' it is undhershtud that wan iv th'
happiest ivints iv th' whole glad cawrnation season was th'
determination iv Ma Hicks to devote her alimony intire to rebuildin'
th' ancesthral mansion iv th' jook. Pa Hicks, not to be outdone,
announced that he wud add th' rent derived fr'm th' ancesthral
mansion iv th' duchess, which is now used as a livery stable.

"An' so th' gr-reat ivint come off. I won't describe it to ye.
It's been done betther thin I cud do it be a fearless press. Ye
know ye'ersilf how th' pro-cission winded its way through th'
sthreets; how Wistminsther Abbey was crowded with peers an'
peeresses, an' what a mighty shout wint up fr'm Willum Waldorf
Astor whin he come in an' sat on his hat near th' dure. It was
all right. First come th' prelates backin' to'rd th' althar.
Thin all th' jooks bowin' low. Thin th' queen, attinded be a bevy
iv American duchesses. Thin th' king lookin' ivry inch a
king--sixty-four be sixty-two in all. Thin th' Rile Shoes, th'
Rile Socks, th' Rile Collar an' Cuffs, an' th' Rile Hat borne be
th' hereditary Sockbearers, Shoesters, Collariferios, an' th' High
an' Magnificint Lid-Lord (in chains). Suddenly all is silent. A
hush falls on th' assimblage, broken on'y be a low, sad cry.
Willum Waldorf Astor has fainted.

"An' so, says th' pa-aper, in th' prisince iv th' mighty dead an'
th' mighty near dead, among th' surroundings that recalled th'
days iv shivaree an' in an atmosphere full iv aristocratic
assocyations, on account iv th' vintilation bein' poor, Albert
Edward Ernest Pathrick Arthur, king, definder iv th' faith, put
on his hat. Th' organ pealed off a solemn peal, th' cannons boomed,
th' duchesses et hard-biled eggs out iv a paper bag, an' a pale
man in silk tights wept over th' tomb iv Major Andhre. It was
Joseph Chote. That night all Great Britain rejoiced, fr'm wan
end iv Ireland to th' other th' lile popylace showed their joy
an' th' sky was lit up be hundherds iv burnin' barns an' a salute
iv forty-four guns was fired in th' County Kerry at a landlord's
agent comin' home fr'm a ball.

"I hope he'll make a good king. I ain't so much down on kings as
I used to be, Hinnissy. I ain't down on thim anny more