(Fnow tHe " Scorrsm Surrwasrex," wits Arotoares To Mx. F. D, Doxwe.)
"J see be th' papers," said Mr, "Hen-nosey, that the Rooshians have been after seaziu' some British ships."
"Tis three," replied Mr. Dooley "bad seran to their ugly frees; an', {what's more, wan of them is owned by countryman of maine. I'm not denying' he 4 belongs to th' north, whilst me own family for miny gineiations niver lived xnywhere but asto of Sligo; but, barrin th' fact that I consider it me booty to pitch rock or two at an Orange procession, I don't bear the Northerners army ill-will."
"For me own part," remarked Mr. Hennessey, I can't gob th' hang of th'
"Tis this way, thin," explained Mr. Dooley, "A British ship comes sailing' pacofully along, wid th' lookout, lights, pumps, sluices, and vintilathors carefully attended to and ivory man at his post, bar thun as is playin' shove-he'ppeny in the fo'cas'le, or chain' th' rag wid th' cook, whin up comes a third-rate bathing' ' machine, tied together wid shtring, disguised as a Rooshian cruiser, Sho's flying' th' fatal signal—P. Q, J. D. 8.—which manes 'Stop or be blown to blazes.' So th' Britisher shops, Britannia havin' retieed from raun' th' waves, Hinnissoy, in favour of a secondhand tramp shteamor armed wid dudley pins picked off th' serap-hope, Th th' Rooshians lower away a boat containing a rigmint of th' cillybrated Cossacks, who ivor rotate unless they're shoved, an' th' Rooshian admiral puts his sword in his mouth, an' climbs on to th' British decks, an' sez to th' British captain, sez} ho," Now, thin, is Contraband on board yor ship or inst hi miral, 'The. manifest, Hinnissey, my man is a sort of mahogany eliist of drawers where they kapa th' ship's papers an' th' silver spoons; but civil a Contraband do they find among em. 'You -don't kidivitch mo, sez the R shian officer. 'Ho must be hiding' somewhere in th' basement of th' ship. Off wid yor hatches', sez he an' he sinds half a rijimint of Cossacks down. stairs to hunt for Contraband, but they fail to projooce him. 'Ha; ha! me fine follow, sez th' admiral to th' skipper, things are beginning to look a little bit pavlofipoluski for you. If Conthraband isn't on board now, you must have had him last trip, and I shall take possession of yer ship and cargo under Article 47, chapter 9, of th' Twelfth of July declaration" 'Whose funeral is this, thin sez the skipper, and how about th' half pay notes?' 'If I have army more of yer patter I shall place you under arresti-Koff,' sez th' Rooshin, 'Thin he puts a crew on board consisting' of two dhrosky drivers, three giverals, an' th' superintindent of th' secret perleece, with orders to steer for th' narest prize court."
"Who is this Conthraband, army way asked Mr; Hennessey.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.