Or some equally nonsensical and jingling lines, after which he dances a few steps and hurriedly exits. As he is going off at one side his partner comes on at the opposite side with another armful of "chestnuts"--as they call worn-out gags, in the show business. The partner is known as Solomon O'Toole. He is dressed in square-cut frock coat, high vest, and short pantaloons, has a squatty, white, square-top, stiff hat, side-whiskers,--"Galway sluggers" or "Carolinas" they are usually called,--carries a cane, and altogether from the expression of his face seems a quiet and harmless fellow. His tongue is broguey but clear, and he speaks with a rapidity which suggests that he is either ashamed of what he is saying or is afraid he will forget some part of it. He says:-- "Now, I'm a man can shtand a joak, but whin I go into a barber shop on Sunday mornin' and the colored barber pins a newspaper under me chin an' hands me a towel to read, its goin' a little too far. [Laughter.] But whin a man goes out in the mornin', these days, there's no knowin' whether or not he'll come back ag'in at night. The other day I went to see a friend o' moine named John Gilligan, who lives at Newton Stuart, about tin moile from Poketown, on the Hog an' Hominy Road, an' he tuck me to hear a South Caroliny pr'acher who was pr'achin' an eloquint sarmin. Everything wint all roight until the pr'acher sez, sez he, "When God med the fust man he stud him up ag'inst a fince to dhry!" I hollered out, "Who med the fince?" an' be heavens, they bounced me on the impulse av the momint. [Laughter.] But az I sed afore, whin a man goes out in the mornin' he never knows what's goin' to happen. The other mornin' I wint over to the Grand Paycific Hotel--I go there every mornin'; there's a friend av mine boardin' there be the waik, an' whin he laves town I go over an' ate his males for him; but I wint over there th' other mornin' an' picked up a paper an' I read an arteckle headed 'The Chinaise Must Go.' Now, be heavens, I don't want the fellow that's got my three shurrts to go until I git 'em back from him ag'in. [Laughter.] A friend av moine named Gilligan bought a goat the other day, an' he goes about the shtreets atin' eysthercans an' knockin' the childher over in the gutter. He butted over a little nagur b'y th' other mornin', and whin Gilligan was taken to coort he summoned me as a witness for the prosecution. Whin I tuck the witness shtand the judge axed me what me name waz, an' I sed Michael Mahoney; an' he axed me what war me nationality, whin be way av a joak I sez, sez I, 'I-talyan,' an' be heavens, he gev me six months for perjuree. [Laughter.] I wint into a salune th' other day; some av the b'ys war settin' around a table playin' cassinoe, an' whin they saw me come in, one av 'em sez, sez he, 'Luck out for the Mick, or he'll swipe up all the lunch!' [Laughter.] I've got a b'y that the Chicago base-ball club used for a foul flag on rainy days. [Smiles.] They threw a ball to him