Excerpt from "Old Deadwood Days"

Page 41--It was the same Pat who stopped Father on the street one day just after we had had a fresh coat of paint on our house. “Sure, Judge, and I always thought you was Irish,” he said; “but now I know it. I just walked up along Williams Street, and I saw your house. There never was anything so green outside of Ireland unless it belonged to an Irishman.” Father had been thinking of toning down the shade a little, but after that he glowed with pride of race every time he looked at the house.