Ye know how to run a shanty an' a pig-pen, but what do ye know about keepin' a hotel ?" "Bedad, if that's where ye are, what do ye know about kapin' a hotel yersilf?
Ye'll see the time, Jim, when ye'll be sorry ye turned the cold shoolder to the honest tongue of Mike Conlin." "Well, Mike, ye understand a pig-pen better nor I do.

I gi'en it up," said Jim, with a sigh that showed how painfully Mike was boring him.
"Yes, Jim, an' ye think a pig-pen is benathe ye, forgittin' a pig is the purtiest thing in life.

Ah, Jim! whin ye git up in the marnin', a falin' shtewed, an' niver a bit o' breakfast in ye, an' go out in the djew barefut, as ye was borrn, lavin' yer coat kapin' company wid yer ugly owld hat, waitin' for yer pork and pertaties, an' see yer pig wid his two paws an' his dirty nose rachin' oover the pin, an sayin' 'good-marnin' to ye,' an' squalin' away wid his big v'ice for his porridge, ye'll remimber what I say.

An', Jim, whin ye fade 'im, ah! whin ye fade 'im! an' he jist lays down continted, wid his belly full, an' ye laugh to hear 'im a groontin' an' a shwearin' to 'imself to think he can't ate inny more, an' yer owld woman calls ye to breakfast, ye'll go in jist happy--jist happy, now.

Ah, ye can't tell me! I'm an owld housekaper, Jim." "Ye're an old pig-keeper; that's what you be," said Jim.