It was evident in his swagger that he was a scion of the British aristocracy, and the most casual observer could not have failed to note that he was a stranger to the city. He touched a well-dressed, auburn-haired young man, who was lolling in front of a Broadway hotel, on the shoulder.
"Pardon me, me dear man, but could I trouble you for a match?" After lighting his cigar he continued: "Bah Jove, this is a remarkable city. This is me first visit to
New York, d'ye know? I'm a deucid stranger,
but on the other side I'm a person of importance. I am Sir Francis Daffy,
Knight of the Garter, Knight of the Bath,
Knight of the Double Eagle, Knight of the Golden Fleece, Knight Of the Iron
Cross. D'ye mind telling me your name, me dear man?"
Replied he of the auburn hair in a deep rich brogue:
"Me name is Michael Murphy, night before last, night before that, last night, tonight, and every damn night- Michael Murphy."