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Ye were a little felly when we last met. I'm Peggy Donohoe that was Peggy Grant now, since I married poor dear Grant that's dead. And, sure, rest his sowl!" here she sniffed a little "though he treated me cruel bad, so he did! Ye'll remember me brother Mick Mick with the red hair?" "Yes," said Charlie, slowly and deliberately, "I remember him well; and you too.
"Ten years," said Katty. "Oh! it's more, I'm thinkin'; it's ten years since poor Dick, God rest his sowl, died, and this was full two years afore that: but no matther, agra, I'll let your Reverence hear the prayer, at any rate."
"Is there e'er a sup at all in the house?" said Mat; "if there is, let me get it; for there's an ould proverb, though it's a most unmathematical axiom as ever was invinted 'try a hair of the same dog that bit you; give me a glass, Nancy, an' you can go for Father Connell after. Oh, by the sowl of Isaac, that invented fluxions, what's this for?"
It's the salt of yer tears that'll cleanse yer heart an' fall like Holy Wather on yer sowl. Ssh! There! There! That's enough now. Stop now an' go back to yer room, an' slape until mornin', an' with the sunlight the last thought of all this will go from ye. Ssh! There now! Don't! An' not a wurrd o' what's happened here to-night will cross my lips." She helped her cousin up and supported her.
'Saints have mercy on my sinful sowl! Sind for Father Constant! Oh sind for Father Constant an' let me go clean! By that I knew he was not so dead as I cud ha' wished. "O'Hara picks up the lamp in the veranda wid a hand as stiddy as a rest. 'Fwhat damned dog's thrick is this av yours? sez he, and turns the light on Tim Vulmea that was shwimmin' in blood from top to toe.
"'I tould you so, sorr! sez I; an', afther that, whin he wanted to help a Paythan I stud wid the muzzle contagious to the ear. They dare not do anythin' but curse. The Tyrone was growlin' like dogs over a bone that had been taken away too soon, for they had seen their dead an' they wanted to kill ivry sowl on the ground.
"Egad," thought Barney, "I'm half a prophet, but I can say no more than I've said. There's mischief in the wind; but whether against Masther Charles or his mother, is a puzzle to me. What a dutiful son, too! A she-devil! Well, upon my sowl, if he weren't her son I could forgive him for that, because it hits her off to a hair but from the lips of a son! O, the blasted scoundrel!
Haven't ye got eyes, Moses?" "From your wife, corporal?" "Wife!" exclaimed Flynn, with scorn; "no! It's mesilf wouldn't take the gift of a wife gratis. The letter is from me owld grandmother, an' she's better to me than a dozen wives rowled into wan. It's hard work the writin' of it cost her too poor owld sowl!
The voices of the Dashers, or Blood-hounds, aren't now in your ears, nor need you be afraid that they will disturb your bed of death an' distract your poor sowl wid their blasphemin', when you ought to think of God's mercy. Oh! no, avillish, sure you feel none of that now, Hugh dear? "'Oh, no, he says, 'nothing of that do we feel now nothing of that do we fear.
"How'd you know I was Irish?" demanded the patient. "By yoursilf's name," quoth P. Sybarite in a thick brogue as natural as grass, while he worked away busily. "'Tis black Irish, and well I know it. 'Twas me mither's maiden name Kenny. She had a brother, Michael he was and be way av bein' a rich conthractor in this very town as ever was, befure he died God rist his sowl!
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