"*
* Country dances, or balls, in which the young men pay
from ten to fifteen pence for whiskey "to trate the
ladies." We hope they will be abolished.
"Well, upon my soundhers, Syl, I did not think you were such a fool; of
coorse I'll pass my opinion on it--about seven o'clock, you say."
"About seven--thank you, Art; an' now listen;--sure the boys intind to
play off some prank upon you afore you lave us."
"On me," replied the other, reddening; "very well, Syl, let them do
so; I can bear a joke, or give a blow, as well as another; so divil may
care, such as they give, such as they'll get--only this, let there be
no attempt to make me drink whiskey, or else there may be harder hittin'
than some o' them 'ud like, an' I think they ought to know that by this
time."
"By jing, they surely ought; well, but can you spell mum?"
"M-u-m."
"Ha, ha, ha, take care of yourself, an' don't forget seven."
"Never fear."
"Frank," said Art, "I'm goin' up to Syl Harte's lodgin's to pass my
opinion on the patthern of a waistcoat for him."
"Very well," said Frank, "of coorse."
"I'll not stop long."
"As long or short as you like, Art, my boy."
"I hope, Frank, you don't imagine that there's any danger of drink?"
"Who, me--why should I, afther what passed? Didn't you give me your
word, and isn't your name Maguire? Not I.
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