"Me new cane from Boston.

Didn't you hear Dannie sayin' what it was?
This little arrangemint is my cicly-meter, like they put on wheels, and buggies now, to tell how far you've traveled.

The way this works, I just tie this silk thrid to me door knob and off I walks, it a reeling out behind, and whin I turn back it takes up as I come, and whin I get home I take the yardstick and measure me string, and be the same token, it tells me how far I've traveled." As he talked he drew out another shining length and added it to the first, and then another and a last, fine as a wheat straw.
"These last jints I'm adding," he explained to Mary, "are so that if I have me cane whin I'm riding I can stritch it out and touch up me horses with it.

And betimes, if I should iver break me old cane fish pole, I could take this down to the river, and there, the books call it 'whipping the water.' See! Cane, be Jasus! It's the Jim-dandiest little fishing rod anybody in these parts iver set eyes on.

Lord! What a beauty!" He turned to Dannie and shook the shining, slender thing before his envious eyes.
"Who gets the Black Bass now ?" he triumphed in tones of utter conviction.
There is no use in taking time to explain to any fisherman who has read thus far that Dannie, the patient; Dannie, the long-suffering, felt abused.