"But his masther didn t wait to hear the end of it till he was below himself... "What? What? What's this tarnation tomfoolery about?" sez he, "in my front parlour? or what do ye mane at all, at all? But the lad was whistlin' like a mavis on May-day, an' timin' himself makin' a new tin on the anvil, an' the sorra a answer he made him, but went on as unconsarned as iver. "I say, ye scoundhril ye," sez the landlord, kickin' one of the skillets clean out through the window, "get up out of that, an' clear out o' this yerself an' yer thrumpery in double quick time, afore I call in the polis, an' make them do their duty.""