Begobs, it's such poor beer that it's little enough Oi sell even in seven days." "Why don't you get your beer elsewhere then ?" "Why, it's Edelhein put me in there to sell his stuff, an' he'd never let me sell anythin' else." "Then Edelhein is really the principal, and you are only put in to keep him out of sight ?" "That's it" "And you have put no money in yourself ?" "Divil a cent." "Then why doesn't he pay the fine ?" "He says Oi have no business to be afther bein' fined.

As if any one sellin' his beer could help bein' fined!" "How is that ?" said Peter, inferring that selling poor beer was a finable offence, yet ignorant of the statute.
"Why yez see, sir, the b'ys don't like that beer--an' sensible they are--so they go to other places, an' don't come to my place." "But that doesn't explain your fines." "Av course it does.

Shure, if the boys don't come to my place, it's little Oi can do at the primary, an' so it's no pull Oi have in politics, to get the perlice an' the joodges to be easy wid me, like they are to the rest." Peter studied his blank wall a bit.
"Shure, if it's good beer Oi had," continued Moriarty, "Oi'd be afther beatin' them all, for Oi was always popular wid the b'ys, on account of my usin' my fists so fine." Peter smiled.

"Why don't you go into something else ?" he asked.
"Well, there's mother and the three childers to be supported, an' then Oi'd lose my influence at the primary." "What kind of beer does Mr.Bohlmann make ?" asked Peter, somewhat irrelevantly.
"Ah," said Moriarty, "that's the fine honest beer! There's never anythin' wrong wid his.

An' he treats his keepers fair.