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"Be near me, Pether; stay wid me I'm very lonely. Is this you keepin' my head up?" "It is, it is! I'll never lave you till till" "Is the carman come from Dublin wid wid the broadcloth?" "Father of heaven! she's gone back again!" exclaimed the husband. "Father, jewel! have you no prayers that you'd read for her? You wor ordained for these things, an' comin' from you, they'll have more stringth.
Dang me, but I'd like to have a bit o' fun with the gauger to see if my hand's still ready for practice." "Oh, thin, Pether, how can you talk that way, asthore? Now if what I'm sayin' was left to yourself wouldn't you be apt to plan it as I'm doin'? wouldn't you, acushla? Throth, I know you're to cute an' sinsible not to do it."
Pether, they both desarve it as well as a thief does the gallows, said a little blustering voice belonging to the tailor, who came forward in a terrible passion, looking for all the world like a drowned rat. 'Ho, by St.
"I'll tell your Reverence in a jiffy I ought to have a ten shillin', barring the price of a quarther o' tobaccy that I bought at the crass-roads boyant. Nine shillins an' somo hapuns, yer Reverence." "Very good, Pether, you must hand me the silver, till I give the rest of the illustration wid it." "But does your Reverence mind another ould proverb?
Connell felt that the principal duties devolving upon her had been discharged. It was but reasonable, she thought, that, after the toil of a busy life, her husband and herself should relax a little, and enjoy with lighter minds the ease for which they had labored so long and unremittingly. "Do you know what I'm thinkin' of, Pether?" said she, one summer evening in their farm-yard.
His experiences at the London bar had not instructed him in the commissariat of his country. "A bit of cold beef, or just some bread and cheese." Mrs. Coolahan's bleared eyes rolled wildly to mine, as seeking sympathy and sanity. "With the will o' Pether!" she exclaimed, "how would I have cold beef? And as for cheese !" She paused, and then, curiosity over-powering all other emotions.
It was you put the bone in us, an' that's what all the country says, big an' little, young and ould; an' God He knows it's truth, and nothin' else." "Indeed, no, thin, Pether, it's not altogether thruth, you desarve your full share of it.
There is a good engraved portrait of him by Pether, from a picture by Fry, which hangs in the hall of the Scriveners' company. I visited him October 4, 1790, in his ninety-third year, and found his judgment distinct and clear, and his memory, though faded so as to fail him occasionally, yet, as he assured me, and I indeed perceived, able to serve him very well, after a little recollection.
Connell, let me entreat you to remember that you are on the point of death, and should raise your heart to God, for the pardon and remission of your sins." "Oh! Father dear, I neglected that, but I intinded I intinded Where's Pether! bring, bring Pether to me!" "Turn your thoughts to God, now, my dear. Are you clear enough in your mind for confession?" "I am, Father! I am, avourneen.
"They shouldn't forget themselves as they're doin', thin; for betune you an' me, they're as proud as Turks, an' God he sees it ill becomes them sits very badly on them, itself, when everything knows that their father an' mother begun the world wid a bottle of private whiskey an' half a pound of smuggled tobaccy." "Poor Pether will break his heart, any way. Oh, man, but she was the good wife.
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