John's huntin' a lost trunk.

Bobby's up-stairs with a slab o' raw beef on his head.

Mike's locked up for runnin' over a boy.

And my big Jim and my wagon is tied up outside the station, till it's all straightened out.
Will ye help me ?" "I am on my way now to the police station," said the priest in his kindest voice.
"Oh, then, ye heard o' Mike ?" "Not a word.

But I often drop in there of a morning.