"
"What is it for, is it? Och, Owen darlin', sure my two brave cows is
lavin' me. Owen M'Murt, the driver, is over wid me beyant, an' has them
ready to set off wid. I reared them both, the two of them, wid my own
hands; _Cheehoney_, that knows my voice, an' would come to me from the
fardest corner o' the field, an' nothin' will we have--nothin' will my
poor sick boy have--but the black wather, or the dhry salt; besides the
butther of them being lost to us for rent, or a small taste of it, of an
odd time, for poor Jimmy. Owen, next to God, I have no friend to depind
upon but yourself!"
"Me!" said Owen, as if astonished. "Phoo, that's quare enough! Now do
you think, Rosha,--hut, hut, woman alive! Come, boys, you're all done;
out wid you to your spades, an' finish that _meerin_ (* a marsh ditch, a
boundary) before night. Me!--hut, tut!"
"I have it all but five pounds, Owen, an' for the sake of him that's in
his grave--an' that, maybe, is able to put up his prayer for you"--
"An' what would you want me to do, Rosha? Fitther for you to sit down
an' finish your dinner, when it's before you. I'm goin' to get an ould
glove that's somewhere about this chist, for I must weed out that bit
of oats before night, wid a blessin'," and, as he spoke he passed into
another room, as if he had altogether forgotten her solicitation, and in
a few minutes returned.
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