John Flynn, when he waxed didactic, and made use of large words and phrases, was the comic column of Banbridge.
Amidon, thus defended, chuckled also, albeit rather foolishly, and slouched to the door.

"Guess I'll drop up and git the Sunday paper.
I'll be in later on, John," he mumbled.

He had the grace to be somewhat ashamed both by the attack and by the defence, and was for edging out, but stopped on the threshold of the door, arrested by something which the small man said.
"Talkin' about poor devils, there's one man in Banbridge ain't no poor devil.

S'pose you know we've got a J.P.Morgan right amongst us ?" "Who ?" asked the postmaster; and Amidon, directly now the conversation was thoroughly shifted from himself, returned to his former place.
"I know who he means," said he, importantly.

"Oh, it's the man what's rented the Ranger place.