United States or Solomon Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Afore Florry was set up on her high horse by that little independency her doting grandmother left her, and until she got her head turned with that Ferrinafad edication, this Florry was a good girl enough. But now what is she?
Gallagher. Christy. Good night to ye kindly, gentlemen. There's a fool to love for you now! If I'd ax'd a hundred, I'd ha' got it. But still there's only one thing. Ferrinafad will go mad when she learns I have sold the new inn, and she to live on in this hole, and no place for the piano. I hope Biddy did not hear a sentence of it. Biddy Doyle! Biddy, can't ye? Enter Biddy. Biddy. What is it?
Miss G. And where on earth, then, did you get that song? Christy. Where but in my brains should I get it? I could do that much any way, I suppose, though it was not my luck to be edicated at Ferrinafad. Miss GALLAGHER gives her a box on the ear. Miss G. Manners! that's to teach ye. Biddy. Manners!
Christy. Did you hear any thing? Oh, I see ye did by your eyes. Now, hark'ee, my good girl: don't mention a sentence to Ferrinafad of my settling the new inn, till the bargain's complate, and money in both pockets you hear. Biddy. I do, sir. But I did not hear afore. Christy. Becaase, she, though she's my daughter, she's crass I'll empty my mind to you, Biddy. Biddy. Christy.
Some ladies than peacocks are twenty times prouder, Some ladies than thunder are twenty times louder; But I'll have a wife that's obliging and civil For me, your fine ladies may go to the devil! Christy. Ferrinafad! Gilb. Miss G. Father, go your ways back to your punch. Christy. Mr. H. Miss Gallagher's health, and a gude husband to her, and soon. Miss G. And soon!
Sir W. Then you acknowledge you bought it? Christy. What harm, plase your honour? And would not I have a right to buy what pleases me and when bought and ped for isn't it mine in law and right? But I am mighty unlucky this night. So, come along, Florry we are worsted see! No use to be standing here longer, the laughing-stock of all that's in it Ferrinafad. Miss G. Murder!
You didn't send me to the dancing-school of Ferrinafad to larn me to make apple-pies, I conclude. Christy. Troth, Florry, 'twas not I sint you there, sorrow foot but your mother; only she's in her grave, and it's bad to be talking ill of the dead any way. But be that how it will, Mr. Gilbert must get the apple-pie, for rasons of my own that need not be mintioned. So, Biddy! Biddy, girl!
Gilbert, the man I've laid out for her, why here's a good stick that will bring her to rason in the last resort; for there's no other way of rasoning with Ferrinafad. The Garden of the Widow LARKEN'S Cottage. OWEN and MABEL. Owen. How does my mother bear the disappointment, Mabel about the inn? Mabel. Then to outward appearance she did not take it so much to heart as I expected she would.
Well, I'm sure I shall be glad to get out of this hole, which is not fit for a rat or a Christian to live in and I'll have my music and my piano in the back parlour, genteel. Christy. Oh! Ferrinafad, are you there?
Miss G. To be sure, sir, and before I come to the honeymoon, I promise you; for I won't become part or parcel of any man that ever wore a head, except he's music in his soul enough to allow me my piano in the back parlour. Christy. Asy! asy! Ferrinafad don't be talking about the piano-forte, till you are married.
Word Of The Day