"Why," she says, in a mellow voice--"Ho! ho! haw! haw! Why does thedistinguished senor cast the Minister of Military and InternalPeace thus upon his digesting, immediately his too great mealthereafter?"

"Hivins!" says Flannagan.

"Now he will say the internal peace is disturbed, meaning hisdigestion, and bring the military, to the end that the distinguishedsenors shall be placed in the dungeons of La Libertad, which," shesays kindly, "beyond expectation are wet, and the senors willprobably decay. He is my husband--Ho, ho! haw, haw!" she says. "He isa pig"

Flannagan was speechless for a moment. The tin-type man pointed hiscamera at the purple dress, and was going to take a misanthropicphotograph, and David went and stood on his head before her, so thatshe laughed harder: "Ho! ho! haw! haw!" and spread out her arms,which had two rings to a finger, and the mixed stones of her necklaceclicked together with her laughter.

"Put up yer camery, typist" says Flannagan, getting hold of hisdiplomacy. "None of your contimptimous photos of the lady.Sure," he says, "it's wid great discomposure I'm taken to be treatin'so the iligint buttons an' canned-tomato clothes enclosin'," he says,"the milithary an' internal digestion of the husband of yourself," hesays, "as foine a lady, an' that educated, as me eyes iver beheld.'Tis me impulses," he says, "'tis me warm an' hearty nature. But yourladyship won't be allowin' a triflin' incident to interfere widenjoyin' the exhibition by me Japanese frinds of the mystherious artof ancient Asia, an' me that proud of your ladyship's approvin'!"