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Well, ye may aisily think they had plinty to talk about, afther seven years without once seein' one another; and so signs on, the time flew by as swift an' as pleasant as a bird on the wing, an' the sun wint down, an' the moon shone sweet an' soft instead, an' they two never knew a ha'porth about it, but kept talkin' an' whisperin', an' whisperin' an' talkin'; for it's wondherful how often a tinder-hearted girl will bear to hear a purty boy tellin' her the same story constant over an' over; ontil at last, sure enough, they heerd the ould man himself comin' up the boreen, singin' the 'Colleen Rue' a thing he never done barrin' whin he had a dhrop in; an' the misthress walkin' in front iv him, an' two illigant Kerry cows he just bought in the fair, an' the sarvint boys dhriving them behind.
"I told you this morning that Casey wasn't calling me at prisent," he said, "and whin I am not called I'd best not answer. I have promised Mary to top the onions and bury the cilery, and murder the bates." "Do what wi' the beets?" inquired the puzzled Dannie. "Kill thim! Kill thim stone dead. I'm too tinder-hearted to be burying anything but a dead bate, Dannie.
Fitzpatrick, we will leave the wife alone. But what of his treatment of the children?" "The childer?" exclaimed Mrs. Fitzpatrick, "the childer, is it? Man dear, but he's the thrue gintleman an' the tinder-hearted father fer his childer, an' so he is." "Oh, indeed, Mrs. Fitzpatrick. I am sure we shall all be delighted to hear this.
An' they murther ye in sich a tinder-hearted way that no raisonable landlord could have any objection to it." I have the honour of again remarking that Ireland is a wonderful country. No. 17.
Mulvaney, that is, was Miss Shadd that was, you were a dale younger than you are now, an' the Army was dif'rint in sev'ril e-senshuls. Bhoys have no call for to marry nowadays, an' that's why the Army has so few rale good, honust, swearin', strapagin', tinder-hearted, heavy-futted wives as ut used to have whin I was a Corp'ril. I was rejuced aftherward but no matther I was a Corp'ril wanst.
Lossing he is mighty cliver with his hands! I was there with my wife and making for the seats that the fools quit, so's to get under and crawl out under the canvas, when I see Mrs. Ellis holding two of the children, and that fool girl let the other go and I grabbed it. 'Oh, save the baby! save one, anyhow, cries my wife the woman is a tinder-hearted crechure!
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