The Gridiron, by Lover
The Emergency Men, by Jessop
A Lost Recruit, by Barlow
The Rival Dreamers, by Banim
Neal Malone, by Carleton
The Banshee, by Anonymous.
rishthan at all? Are you a furriner,' says I,' that all the world calls so p'lite? Bad luck to you, do you understand your own language? Parly voo frongsay?' says I.
"'We, munseer,' says he.
"'Then, thunder an' turf,' says I, 'will you lind me the loan of a gridiron?'
"Well, sir, the divil resa've the bit of it he'd gi' me; and so, with that, 'The curse o' the hungry an you, you ould neygarly villain,' says I; 'the back o' my hand and the sowl o' my foot to you, that you may want a gridiron yourself yit,' says I. And with that I left them there, sir, and kem away; and, in throth, it's often sense that I thought that it was remarkable."
THE EMERGENCY MEN
BY GEORGE H. JESSOP
The fourth morning after his arrival in Dublin, Mr. Harold Hayes, of New York, entered the breakfast-room of the Shelbourne Hotel in a very bad humour. He was sick of the city, of the people, and of his own company. Before leaving London he had written to his friend, Jack Connolly, that he
