The newcomer wedged his way into the congenial group of patrons, and apropos of nothing which up until then had been said or done, introduced himself to the notice of the company by stating in a loud clear voice: “The doctor wants me to take a trip. I haven’t been feelin’ the best in the world and my wife got worried—you know how women are—and to-night she sent for the doctor. And he came over, a little while ago, and he asked me a lot of foolish questions and took my temperature and five dollars and then he says to me that I should rest up for a spell and travel ’round. He says I ought to go out to California and see the sights. Ain’t I been to California? I have—more’n half a dozen times. Ain’t I seen every sight there is in the whole state of California? I have. As a matter of fact, I don’t mind tellin’ you fellers that I’ve been everywhere and I’ve seen practically everything there is.” At this a gentleman who was far overtaken in stimulant, slid the entire length of the bar, using his left elbow for a rudder. Anchoring himself alongside the stranger he hooked a practiced and accomplished instep on the brass rail to hold him upright and he focused a watery, wavering, bloodshot eye upon the countenance of the other and to him in husky tones he said: “Excus’h me, but could I ash you a ques’shun?” “Sure, you could ask me a question,” said the stranger. “Go ahead.” “The ques’shun,” said the alcoholic one, “’s as follows: Have you ever had delirium tremens?” “Certainly not,” snorted the indignant stranger. “Well, you big piker!” said the inebriate, “then you ain’t never been nowheres—and you ain’t never seen nothin’.” § 2 The Prudent Mr. Finnerty The lawyer picked his way to the edge of the excavation and called down for Michael Finnerty. “Who’s wantin’ me?” inquired a deep voice. “I am,” said the lawyer. “Mr. Finnerty, did you come from Castlebar, County Mayo?” “I did.” “And was your mother named Mary and your father named Owen?” “They was.” “Then Mr. Finnerty,” said the lawyer, “it is my duty to inform you that your Aunt Kate has died in the old country, leaving you an estate of twenty thousand dollars in cash. Please come up.” There was a pause and a commotion down below. “Mr. Finnerty,” called the lawyer, craning his neck over the trench, “I’m waiting for you!” “In wan minute,” said Mr. Finnerty. “I just stopped to lick the foreman!” For six months Mr. Finnerty, in a high hat and with patent leather shoes on his feet, lived a life of elegant ease, trying to cure himself of a great thirst. Then he went back to his old job. It was there that the lawyer found him the second time. “Mr. Finnerty,” he said, “I’ve more news for you. It is your Uncle Terence who’s dead now in the old country; and he has left you his entire property.”