time, in th’ sicond place he was in London.  Th’ letter is not in his handwritin’, but in th’ handwritin’ iv Colonel Pat th’ Clam.  Thin again I wrote th’ letter mesilf.  Thin who cud ’ve written it?  It must ’ve been Cap Dhryfuss. [Cheers fr’m th’ coort.] I give me reasons as they occurred to me:  First, th’ Armeenyan athrocities; sicond, th’ risignation iv Gin’ral Alger; third, th’ marriage iv Prince Lobengula; fourth, th’ scarcity iv sarvint girls in th’ sooburban towns; fifth, th’ price iv gas. [Cries iv ‘Abase th’ price iv gas!’] I thank th’ aujience.  I will raysume where I left off.  I was speakin’ iv Gin’ral Guns.  I met him on th’ sthreet.  Th’ moon was clear in th’ sky.  I says, “Guns,” I says, “lave us go down to Hogan’s, an’ I’ll buy ye a tub iv obsceenthe.”  As we sthrolled through th’ bullyvard, I saw a man that looked like a German dhrivin’ a cab.  I was overcome with terror.  I ran madly home, followed be Guns.  It was a week befure I cud hold a glass iv obsceenthe without spillin’ th’ liquor.  Shortly afther this, or it may’ve been tin years befure, or it may niver have occurred [the coort, ‘Spoken like a Fr-rinchman an’ a sojer’], in th’ middle iv July a man tol’ me that the divine Sara [wild an’ continyous applause, cries iv ‘Sara foriver!’] was about to projooce th’ immortal play iv “Omlet” [cheers] be th’ wretched Shakspere [hisses].  Cud annything be clearer?  I will detain th’ coort not longer thin a day while I give me opinyon on this marvellous performance.’

“Cap Dhryfuss was settin’ on th’ window-sill, whistlin’ ‘Garry Owen,’ an’ makin’ faces at th’ gallant corryspondint iv th’ Daily Wrongs iv Man.  At this point he cried out laughingly:  ’I will not conthradict th’ gin’ral.  I will say he lies.  I saw th’ letter mesilf, an’ that man was Esterhazy.’ [Sensation.]

“‘Let me ask this canal iv a Jew a question,’ says th’ corryspondint iv th’ evening Rothscheeld Roaster, a Fr-rinchman be th’ name iv Sol Levi.

“‘Ask it,’ says Cap Dhryfuss.

“‘You are a despicable thraitor,’ says th’ gallant corryspondint. [Sensation.]

“‘Th’ pris’ner must answer,’ says th’ coort.  ’It is now nearly six o’clock iv th’ mornin’, an’ time to get up an’ dhress.’

“‘I refuse to make anny commint,’ says Cap Dhryfuss,

“The pris’ner’s remark, uttered in tones iv despair, caused gr-reat emotion in th’ aujience.  There were angry cries iv ‘Lynch him!’ an’ all eyes were tur-rned to th’ Cap.

“‘Silence!’ roared th’ coort, bendin’ a stern, inflexible look on th’ pris’ner.  ’This is a coort iv justice.  We ar-re disposed f’r to grant ivry indulgence; but, if outsiders persist in intherferin’ with these proceedin’s,’ he says, ‘we’ll expel thim fr’m th’ r-room.  What does th’ prisoner think this is?’

“‘I thought it was a thrile,’ says th’ Cap; ‘but, be th’ number iv vet’ran journalists here, it must be th’ openin’ iv a new hotel.’

“‘Not another wurrud,’ says th’ coort, ’or ye’ll be fired out.  No wan shall insult th’ honest, hard-wurrukin’, sober, sensible journalists iv Fr-rance.  Not if this coort knows it.  Ye bet ye, boys, th’ coort is with ye.  Th’ press is th’ palajeen iv our liberties.  Gin’ral Merceer will raysume his tistimony.  He was speakin’ of th’ game iv goluf.’