We say the two last, for in most of the other
accomplishments Phelim was fully his equal. Phelim frequently envied him
his life. It was an idle, amusing, vagabond kind of existence, just
such a one as he felt a relish for. This man had a daughter, rather
well-looking; and it so happened, that he and Phelim had frequently
spent whole nights out together, no one knew on what employment. Into
Flattery's house did Phelim saunter with something like an inclination
to lay the events of the day before him, and to ask his advice upon his
future prospects. On entering the cabin he was much surprised to find
the daughter in a very melancholy mood; a circumstance which puzzled
him not a little, as he knew that they lived very harmoniously together.
Sally had been very useful to her father; and, if fame did not belie
her, was sometimes worthy Foodie's assistant in his nocturnal exploits.
She was certainly reputed to be "light-handed;" an imputation which
caused the young men of her acquaintance to avoid, in their casual
conversations with her, any allusion to matrimony.
"Sally, achora," said Phelim, when he saw her in distress, "what's the
fun? Where's your father?"
"Oh, Phelim," she replied, bursting into tears, "long runs the fox, but
he's cotch at last. My father's in gaol."
Phelim's jaw dropped. "In gaol! _Chorp an diouol_, no!"
"It's thruth, Phelim.
Pages:
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82