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"Sing, ye bloomin' hummin' bird!" said he, and Ortheris, beating time on Learoyd's skull, delivered himself, in the raucous voice of the Ratcliffe Highway, of this song: My girl she give me the go onst, When I was a London lad, An' I went on the drink for a fortnight, An' then I went to the bad.
'An' when he was goin' on about five minutes, all at onst the bottom iv the hamper kem out, an' down wint Terence, falling splash dash into the water, an' the ould gandher a-top iv him. Down they both went to the bottom, wid a souse you'd hear half a mile off.
Hun'erds ob times he say, 'Chunk, we go back some day, sho! But he do he duty brabe. I go wid 'im ev'ywhar en onst, des on de aige ob night, he wuz ridin' long wid 'bout twenty ob he men en dis ting happen. We didn't tink any Rebs roun' en I'd been kep' back tryn' ter git a chicken fer mars'r's supper. Ez I riz a hill, ridin' right smart I see our folks goin' easy en car'less inter a woods.
De angels is all ready to tote me to Heben. I kin jes' heah dere wings rustlin' roun' me. I was jes' waitin' an' hol'n back ter see you onst mo'. Good-by, moder granny." Then she feebly wound her little arms about Kern's neck and whispered, "Good-by, daddy, fer jes' a lil while. I'se wait neah de gate fer you shuah."
"Faith, and I wint an' bought a practis' at onst, havin' a snig little sum stowed away in the bank," continued Garry, "the savin's of me pay for the last five year an' more, besides that money we all got for salvagin' the French ship, sure, of which I nivver spint a ha'poth. But aven thin, Dick, ould chap, yer dear ould mother wern't satisfied, bless her ould heart.
'I've just been prospectin' a bit round here. 'Frank was tryin' that bank. 'Tain't no good. Say, I can lay you onter somethin' better not far from here. 'Yes where is it? 'Tellin's. What'll you give us? 'Depends. What's it worth? 'Got half a pennyweight prospect there onst. Look here, you lend me yer dog t'-night, an' I'll show where. 'What do you want with Cop? 'You won't split?
He could not get time to attend to the farm, was obliged to leave things to the hired man, and was in trouble often about his affairs. 'Bit yo see, she hasna t' reet use of her speach, he said, excusing himself humbly to this handsome city nephew. 'An' she conno gie ower snipin aw at onst. 'Twudna be human natur'. An't' gell's worritin' an' I mun tell her what t' missis says.
"Mist' Steerin'," began Piney at last; he had a long spear of sere grass in his mouth and he chewed at it argumentatively, "d'you think, I couldn't adzackly tell whut that writin' wuz a-aimin' at, but simlike f'm the way it goes on that ef the sort of thing it makes aout to happen happens onst, it oughtn't never to happen agin, hmh?" Piney's long drawn notes of rising inflection were musical.
"Simlike, ef a man onst finds the right woman they oughtn't never to be no more right women, hmh?" "There ought not to be, Piney, son." "Well, but they gen'ly is, hmh?" Bruce straightened out one foot with an impatient kick.
"Over to England they is them Lards an' Jukes, what ain't allowed in them States, but I mistrusts them Jelliffes is what takes the place o' they in Ameriky." "I dunno," doubted another, "th' gentleman he be kinder civerlized fer a juke. Them goes about wid little crowns on the head o' they, I seen a pictur of one, onst. But Lards is all right.
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