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Laughter was smothered, talk whispered. "He'm a-practisin' his spaches." "Smoke the cunnin' old vox out!" "Red pepper's the proper stuff." "See men sneeze! We've a-screed up the door." Then, as a face showed at the lighted window, a burst of harsh laughter broke the hush. He at the window was seen struggling violently to wrench away a bar. The laughter swelled to hooting.
I can't jist feel aisy about it, for it's Father M'Clane will find out the harm of her good spaches and doings." The words were hardly out of her mouth when the priest entered. The storm on his brow was not unnoted by Biddy, but she respectfully set a chair for him in the cleanest part of the room.
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