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Helb yourself, mine Freund, und den gif me der key back." "Ye addie-pated son of sin!" Mr. Reardon soliloquized as he took the key and departed. "Faith, a booby birrd has more sinse nor you! D'ye suppose I didn't wait until ye were on djooty before axin' ye, well knowin' ye'd lind me the key an' I'd be alone in yer shtore-room!" Mr. Reardon was in the store-room less than two minutes.
That afternoon I went back to Murphy's store, pulled out a cigar case and, passing it over to the old gentleman, said, 'Take one, neighbor. These are out of my private box. It was really a good cigar and the old man, giving me a little blarney, said, 'Surre, that cigare is a birrd. 'I'm glad you like it, said I. 'I have those sent me from Chicago, a fresh box every week.
Cages he has, an' globes for goldfish, an' birrd cages, but th' size of th' shop l'aves no room for an aquarium, Casey. He has no tank for the preservation of water goats. Hippopotamuses an' alligators an' crocodiles an' dongola water goats an' sea lions he does not keep in stock, Casey, but sinds out an' catches thim whin ordered.
And Thompson felt himself spinning through the air. Old families were forgotten. The world was young with laughter. They could fly. They did. The silver was beautifully cleaned. He had earned his holiday. "That singing!" he gasped, feeling his heart grow big. He followed her across the flowered world. "I believe it is a bird! It would not surprise me to be told " "A birrd!" cried Mrs.
Horton, turning him round and round. "It's a birrd from Heaven then! I've heard it all the morning. It's been singing in me heart for ages. Now it's out! Come follow it wid me! We'll go to the end of the wurrld to foinde it." Her kitchen energy some called it temper had discovered a greater scope than puddings.
Its shrill invective would have awakened the dead. The whistling, regular snores of the sleeper suddenly wound up with a gasping gurgle; he opened his eyes and, in a strong cereal accent gave vent to a somnolent peevish protest. "Losh! . . . whot wi' you fellers bickerin' an' yon damn birrd currsin' I canna sleep! . . . gie th' " But Hardy silenced him with a warning finger. "Sh-sh!
I have been corrispondin' with wan of th' celibrated animal men regardin' th' dongola water goat, an' I have me eye on two of thim this very minute. But 'twill be ixpinsive, Casey, mighty ixpinsive. Th' dongola water goat is a rare birrd, Casey. They have become extinct in th' lakes of Ireland, an' what few of thim is left in th' worrld is held at outrajeous prices.
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