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Show The Retort Courteous. The retort courteous is usually' the essence of clever repartee, when made by one of Celtic blood. Somebody wrote to The Monitor of Newark. N. J., a Catholic paper, asking if every body of importance was Irish and also if the devil was The editor answered, in part: There are lots of people prominent just now that are not Irish. There is Harry Thaw. But one of the men who is' prosecuting this slimy insignificant is Irish. There is Swettenham; he is not Irish. But Chaplain Gleason, who represented the level-headed American admiral, is There Is Belmont; he is not Irish. But McDonald, the builder of the subway, the man whom President Presi-dent Belmont brought back. is. There is Clemenceau; he. thank God, is not Irish. But there is a drop of Irish blood in Cardinal Merry del Val, who has outwitted the smiling cynic who rules France just now. And so you might go on indefinitely All the important and prominent people are not Irish, but the Irish have the troublesome habit of bobbing up wherever there is something doing. From our experience with the world we are of opinion that the devil Is a cosmopolite. The Gospel guggests that his majesty claimed the universe as his dominion. We do not imagine he is distinctively Irish. Then, watching watch-ing the Irish around us. we notice that they are fire fighters. Satan seems to be lacking in this characteristic of the race. This creates the presumption as strong as those which satisfy scientists in general. And, again, after a careful care-ful study of the nomen of the angel who conquered Satan, we are inclined to the belief that he was of Irish connection. con-nection. Scientists, moreover, are not effusive over the amount of green to be found in lire and flames. Erin's Emblem. By E. A. Sutton. Little Shamrock! sent to greet me. From dear Erin's distant strand, j Rest thee proudly on my bosom, j Emblem of my native land! Richer than the rarest blossom. Sweeter than the fragrant rose. Ah! to me thy leaves are dearer Than the fairest flower that grows. Little Shamrock! gift of Erin! Round my heart thy leaves shall twine, Thou and it shall throb together For thy native land and mine! Little Shamrock! in my mem'ry, Thou canst many visions raise : At thy sight come o'er nie stealing Happy dreams of other days. And thy voice is ever speaking Of that Isle beyond the sea. Of her beauty, of her sorrows. Of her struggles to be free. Little Shamrock! gift of Erin! 'Round my heait they leaves shall twino, Thou and it shall throb together For thy native land and mine! Little Shamrock! droop no longer. Lift thine head in queenly pride. Sorrow's clouds, now rent asunder. Nevermore thy Vain shall hide! . i Freedom comes, iier choice is taken, Thou shall be he rbrightest gem! And thy triple leaves shine proudly In her beaueous diadem! Little Shamrock! gift of Erin! 'Round my heart they leaves shall twine, i Thou and it shall throb together For thy native land and mine. No Brain Storms in Britain. (From the Indianapolis News.) The "brain storm" nonsense or any other old insanity plea cannot be worked so easily in London. The English Eng-lish people have the wholesome idea that it is a pretty serious thing for one man to kill another. They adhere to the notion that private vengeance is incompatible with real civilization, that the first duty of society is to insist on the sacredness of human life. Compare the trial of the murderer of Whitley, the great London merchant, with that of Thaw. One can see the difference between common sense and strict justice jus-tice in the administration of the law on one side, and maudlin sentiment and brain storm folly on the other. |