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OH, JUST LOOK WHO'S HERE!
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, > ye belave in miracles?" asked Mrs. Brannigan, in the course of a little gossip over the backyard fence.
"Av coorse I do," Mrs. Lannigan declared indignantly — "av coorse I do. Dont we see thim every day? In 'Poor Little Pepperbox/ Mary Pickfoot's brother cuts her hair off rale short, but whin she mates her payrents, three years later, 'tis as long an' curly as iver. 'Tis meself that wud like to know what kind of hair restorer she uses.
"In 'The Yellow Passport,' fracturing Clara Thimble Stung, the vile villvun laves Rushia one day an' lands in New York the next. That's makin' purty good time aven for an arrowplane. An' I 'mind me av a play I saw lasht winter, The Deadly Toll.' In the first real, the villvun wore a pair of striped pants that wud make a barber-pole cry for help, an' a naygur went to break in the fillum and stale the whole suit. The next real was tin years later, but the omadhaun was still wearin' the self-same pants, an' they didn't look a bit the worse for wear, ayther. Shure, if Moike cud only do wan-half that well, I'd have a chanct to git a new dress wanct in a while.*'
"Have ye seen any good plays' lately ?" queried Mrs. Brannigan.
"I have that," Mrs. Lannigan re
A PAIR OF PANTS THAT WUD MAKE A BARBERPOLE CRY FOR HELP"
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sponded promptly. " 'The Pennyroyalty av Sin' was an illegant thing. 'Twas got out by the Vitalcraft paple wid the ladin' part mistook by Mary Cinderson an' Lobster Camel. The hero was so handsome an' such a fine acthor that I'd 'a' married him meself aven wid the experience I've had wid Moike Lannigan. The villyness is very beautiful ; 'tis no eye-strain to look at her, but she had a disposition that was worse than your own, Mrs. Brannigan. She was the best bad woman I iver saw."
"Do tell me all about it," urged Mrs. Brannigan, tactfully ignoring the implication ; "like a Jew, I'm all inthrust."
"Well," said Mrs. Lannigan, " 'tis no throuble to give the plot av the play, but 'tis not so aisy to put in worruds the wonderful actin', fine customs an' beautiful seenery. The whole play was a gem, an' 'tis meself that knows all about jools. havin' wanct lost a coral ring on the lasht day av the wake. Bad cess to it ! I was always unlucky av a Sathaday."
"But the play," urged Mrs. Brannigan — "what about the play?"
"The play? Oh, vis. Well, the villyness is married to an ould duck who has wan fut in the grave an' the other on a banana peel. He's very rich an' can draw his check where they wouldn't let a poor man draw his breath. He has