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"Well, when a body dies even a natural death, it's wondherful how soon it goes about; but when they come to an untimely one, it spreads like fire on a dry mountain." "Was there no inquest?" asked Andy Morrow. "The sorra inquist, not making you an ill answer, sir the people weren't so exact in them days: but any how the man was dead, and what good could an inquist do him?
Well, says I, I'm here, says I, an' the first man that raises a hand to me, I'll invite him to his own inquist, says I, for, bedad, I'll perforate him like a riddle, says I. Well, it wint on an' on, till one day I was stayin' at a bit of a shebeen outside the place, when a slip o' a girleen kem to me I was sittin' on a bench in the back garden, the way I'd enjoy my pipe in the fresh air, an', says she, 'Get out o' this, for there's a whole crew o' thim inside going to bate you. That was six or seven o' a fine summer's night, an' I walked into the house an' took a look at thim a thievin' heap o' blayguards as iver ye seen wid your two eyes."
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