“But they’se wan question that Congress is goin’ to take up that you an’ me are intherested in.  As a pilgrim father that missed th’ first boats, I must raise me claryon voice again’ th’ invasion iv this fair land be th’ paupers an’ arnychists iv effete Europe.  Ye bet I must—­because I’m here first.  ’Twas diff’rent whin I was dashed high on th’ stern an’ rockbound coast.  In thim days America was th’ refuge iv th’ oppressed iv all th’ wurruld.  They cud come over here an’ do a good job iv oppressin’ thimsilves.  As I told ye I come a little late.  Th’ Rosenfelts an’ th’ Lodges bate me be at laste a boat lenth, an’ be th’ time I got here they was stern an’ rockbound thimsilves.  So I got a gloryous rayciption as soon as I was towed off th’ rocks.  Th’ stars an’ sthripes whispered a welcome in th’ breeze an’ a shovel was thrust into me hand an’ I was pushed into a sthreet excyvatin’ as though I’d been born here.  Th’ pilgrim father who bossed th’ job was a fine ol’ puritan be th’ name iv Doherty, who come over in th’ Mayflower about th’ time iv th’ potato rot in Wexford, an’ he made me think they was a hole in th’ breakwather iv th’ haven iv refuge an’ some iv th’ wash iv th’ seas iv opprission had got through.  He was a stern an’ rockbound la-ad himsilf, but I was a good hand at loose stones an’ wan day—­but I’ll tell ye about that another time.

“Annyhow, I was rayceived with open arms that sometimes ended in a clinch.  I was afraid I wasn’t goin’ to assimilate with th’ airlyer pilgrim fathers an’ th’ instichoochions iv th’ counthry, but I soon found that a long swing iv th’ pick made me as good as another man an’ it didn’t require a gr-reat intellect, or sometimes anny at all, to vote th’ dimmycrat ticket, an’ befure I was here a month, I felt enough like a native born American to burn a witch.  Wanst in a while a mob iv intilligint collajeens, whose grandfathers had bate me to th’ dock, wud take a shy at me Pathrick’s Day procission or burn down wan iv me churches, but they got tired iv that befure long; ’twas too much like wurruk.

“But as I tell ye, Hinnissy, ’tis diff’rent now.  I don’t know why ’tis diff’rent but ’tis diff’rent.  ’Tis time we put our back again’ th’ open dure an’ keep out th’ savage horde.  If that cousin iv ye’ers expects to cross, he’d betther tear f’r th’ ship.  In a few minyits th’ gates ‘ll be down an’ whin th’ oppressed wurruld comes hikin’ acrost to th’ haven iv refuge, they’ll do well to put a couplin’ pin undher their hats, f’r th’ Goddess iv Liberty ’ll meet thim at th’ dock with an axe in her hand.  Congress is goin’ to fix it.  Me frind Shaughnessy says so.  He was in yisterdah an’ says he:  ‘’Tis time we done something to make th’ immigration laws sthronger,’ says he.  ‘Thrue f’r ye, Miles Standish,’ says I; ’but what wud ye do?’ ‘I’d keep out th’ offscourin’s iv Europe,’ says he.  ‘Wud ye go back?’ says I.  ‘Have ye’er joke,’ says he. ’’Tis not so seeryus as it was befure ye come,’ says I.  ’But what ar-re th’ immygrants doin’ that’s roonous to us?’ I says.