The Luck of the Irish Page #9

that first night in Ireland.

I'll answer your questions in turn.

I am...

what you say I am.

The term, perhaps,

is not quite the best usage.

As to your mental condition...

'tis true you're a bit

on the weak-minded side...

but you're as sane

as you'll ever be.

Aren't you a little

large for a leprechaun?

That's a page in me family history

we won't go into, if you don't mind.

I'm parched from all

the exercise you've given me.

You mind if I have a drink?

Do you mind, sir?

You brought Norah

over here, didn't you?

No. You brought her here

yourself, Fitzgerald...

long ago, in your mind.

Her physical presence

alters nothing.

What are you trying to do,

ruin my life?

Let's discuss the matter

calmly, Fitzgerald.

Do you mind?

You must believe me when I tell you that

I was prompted by the noblest of motives-

simple gratitude

and affection for yourself.

It was for that reason that I left me native

waterfall to come here and dwell in your-

in your cold, inhospitable city.

And I don't mind telling you...

I'm a little bit homesick.

My nose itches

for the smell of peat...

and me eyes water for the sight

of a blackthorn in bloom.

'Tis sad indeed that I've been unable

to complete me mission...

and that I must

leave you in failure.

But I didn't ask you to come.

To be sure you didn't.

But then, you don't always

wait for an invitation...

to follow the brave music

of a distant drum.

You see, I've learned to like you.

Still, I suppose

I must be philosophical.

There will be

other centuries to come.

And other young men...

with a nose for treasure.

I offered you gold.

'Tis not my fault

that you prefer a pebble.

Horace, I-

I've tried to give you,

as sincerely as I can...

my view of the issues

of the campaign.

Not that I expect you

all to agree with me.

Frankly,

I'd be a little worried if you did...

as long as a good, healthy disagreement

is the essence of a free press.

I hope you won't be too hard on me. Remember,

I used to be an honest newspaperman myself.

Off the record, I wish I still were.

Well, I'd like to make

a little announcement.

If I'm lucky enough

to win the election...

I intend to resign

from Augur Publications.

I've given a good deal of thought...

to the selection of the man

who will take my place.

I didn't have to look far.

For the past couple of months,

I've been honored...

to work with one of the best

newspapermen of our time.

You all know him

as a first-rate reporter...

and a whale of a good fella.

Steve Fitzgerald!

Come on up here!

Go on, say something, Fitz.

Well, I'm- I'm very grateful to Mr. Augur

for his- his very flattering offer.

But I can't accept.

In the first place,

I wasn't cut out for the job.

And in the second place...

Mr. Augur should have someone

in charge ofhis publications...

who agrees with him on the issues.

Is this on the record, Fitz?

Can we quote you?

- Well, I-

- What are your own plans, Fitz?

L- I haven't any.

I haven't any except...

to sit under a waterfall

with an old friend of mine.

Fitz, come back.

Fitz!

Give us some more, will ya, Fitz?

- Just a moment!

- We're all here! How about a statement?

Mr. Augur,

do you have any-

- You're seriously leaving?

- You can tell us more than this!

Now, wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Wait a minute, fellas.

I've said enough.

You heard it all.

- Any chance you'll change your mind?

- I'm resigning now, for good.

What about the engagement?

Is it on or off?

I'm afraid that's up to Miss Augur.

How about that, Miss Augur?

Are you gonna share that waterfall?

I don't think I'm invited.

But even if I am,

as Mr. Fitzgerald would say...

I'm afraid I wasn't

cut out for the job.

Good-bye, Fitz.

Good-bye, Frances.

Good-bye.

- Hmm?

- It's well-written, Fitz.

But I don't agree with a word of it.

What's wrong with it?

- Anyone who knows a thing about conditions

in Italy- - I was there. Were you?

- Oh, I should have gone myself, I know.

- All right, all right.

You don't like it, I'll

turn it over to D.C. Augur...

now that he's safely back

in the publishing business.

Who said I didn't like it?

We'll run it as a series.

The usual rates.

Are you two gonna sit here

all night arguing?

It's this pigheaded

husband of yours, Norah.

- He has no respect for my gray hairs.

- He's getting an Augur complex.

- Don't you want a nightcap, Bill?

- No. I'm going to bed.

- Good night, Taedy.

- Good night, Mr. Fitz.

Come on, honey. Taedy, just leave

that bottle on the table there.

I had no intention of touching it,

I can assure you.

You first.

- Good night, Bill.

- Good night, Bill.

- Good night.

- If you want anything, just sing out.

- Thanks. I want a wife like Norah.

- There aren't any.

If he gets altogether unmanageable,

I'll remember that.

Bill!

What's the idea?

Oh.

Oh, it's you.

- What were you doing with the bottle?

- Shh! Shh-shh!

It's for an old friend of mine, just in case he

needs something to keep out the cold, you know.

He-

Good night.

- Good night.

- Good night.

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