I'm not the
ninth part of what I was. I'd hardly make paddin' for a collar now."
"Are you able to carry a staff still, Neal?"
"I've a light hazel one that's handy," said the tailor; "but where's
the use of carryin' it, whin I can get no one to fight wid. Sure I'm
disgracing my relations by the life I'm leadin'. I'll go to my grave
widout ever batin' a man, or bein' bate myself; that's the vexation.
Divil the row ever I was able to kick up in my life; so that I'm fairly
blue-mowlded for want of a batin'. But if you have patience----"
"Patience!" said Mr. O'Connor, with a shake of the head, that was
perfectly disastrous even to look at; "patience, did you say, Neal?"
"Ay," said Neal, "an', be my sowl, if you deny that I said patience,
I'll break your head!"
"Ah, Neal," returned the other, "I don't deny it--for though I am
teaching philosophy, knowledge, and mathematics, every day in my life,
yet I'm learning patience myself both night and day. No, Neal; I have
forgotten to deny anything. I have not been guilty of a contradiction,
out of my own school, for the last fourteen years. I once expressed
the shadow of a doubt about twelve years ago, but ever since I have
abandoned even doubting. That doubt was the last expiring effort at
maintaining my domestic authority--but I suffered for it."
"Well," said Neal, "if you have patience, I'll tell you what afflicts me
from beginnin' to endin'.
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