Bedad, they say it's as purty a crathur
as you'd see in a day's thravellin'."
"Harry Connolly! Why, I know Harry, but I never heard of Biddy Duiguan,
or her father at all. Harry Connolly! Is it a man that's bent over his
staff for the last twenty years! Hut, tut, Phelim, don't say sich a
thing."
"Why, ma'am, sure he takes wid it himself; he doesn't deny it at all,
the ould sinner."
"Oh, that I mayn't sin, Phelim, if one knows who to thrust in this
world, so they don't. Why the desateful ould--hut, Phelim, I can't give
into it."
"Faix, ma'am, no wondher; but sure when he confesses it himself! Bedad,
Mrs. Doran, I never seen you look so well. Upon my sowl, you'd take the
shine out o' the youngest o' thim!"
"Is it me, Phelim? Why, you're beside yourself."
"Beside myself, am I? Faith, an' if I am, what I said's thruth, anyhow.
I'd give more nor I'll name, to have so red a pair of cheeks as you
have. Sowl, they're thumpers."
"Ha, ha, ha! Oh, that I mayn't sin, but that's a good joke! An ould
woman near sixty!"
"Now, Mrs. Doran, that's nonsense, an' nothing else. Near sixty! Oh, by
my purty, that's runnin' away wid the story entirely--No, nor thirty.
Faith, I know them that's not more nor five or six-an'-twenty, that 'ud
be glad to borry the loan of your face for a while. Divil a word o' lie
in that."
"No, no, Phelim, aroon, I seen the day; but that's past.
Pages:
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65