bloody freemason doing, says the citizen, prowling up and down outside?
―What’s that? says Joe.
―Here you are, says Alf, chucking out the rhino. Talking about hanging. I’ll show you something you never saw. Hangmen’s letters. Look at here.
So he took a bundle of wisps of letters and envelopes out of his pocket.
―Are you codding? says I.
―Honest injun, says Alf. Read them.
So Joe took up the letters.
―Who are you laughing at? says Bob Doran.
So I saw there was going to be bit of a dust. Bob’s a queer chap when the porter’s up in him so says I just to make talk:
―How’s Willy Murray those times, Alf?
―I don’t know, says Alf. I saw him just now in Capel Street with Paddy Dignam. Only