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| So this Friday last, myself and the great Honus Wagner, he of the gentle-man's sport of Base-ball, away to the tavern to partake of a fine pilsener.... | |
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| and we are regaling with jests about the Negro and the Irishman, and tales of dalliances with women of loose virtue.... | |
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| when a hap-less interloper interrupts to say that our jests smelt of the diarrhoea of one thousand Chinee with the malaria, infused with that of a thousand African bushmen with the tse-tse disease. | |
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| Not one to suffer a jape at my expense, Honus and I proceed to taunt the poor lad with allegations of being a homo-sexual and a pederast. He then attempts to engage us in a bout of fisticuffs. | |
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| How-ever, he is undone when Honus delivers a finishing blow with his brick-bat, dis-patching our would-be pugilist with a well-placed strike betwixt the ocular membranes. | |
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| Defeated, he shouts a vulgar epithet in our direction before shambling to the in-firmary with a cleft brain-pan. | |
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