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Updated: May 24, 2025
'Fore he come, doctors en folks was trying ter fin' out 'bout me, en this Ma'tine 'lows he knows all 'bout me. Ef he wuzn't so orful glum, he'd be a good chap anuff, ef he is cur'ous. Hit's all a-changin' somehow, en yet' tisn't. Awhile ago nobody knowd 'bout me, en they wuz allus a- pesterin' of me with questions. En now Ma'tine en you 'low you know 'bout me, yet you ast questions jes' the same.
Tombs, you don't know who you're talking about!" "Yes, I do, brotheh. I was jess so! An' s' I, he'll pull through! His motheh's prayers 'll prevail, evm if mine don't! An' now, when ev'ybody sees you a-changin' faw the better " "Better! Great Sc " "Yes, an' yet 'ithout the least sign o' conversion I say, s' I, it's restrainin' grace! Ah! don't I know?
What for might the angels o' Heaven be doin' going up and down betwane the blue sky and the green earth? Faith, lad, 'tis daft ye are, a-changin' of me clothes! Lave the black gown, lad! 'Tis the badge of poverty and He was poor and knew not where to lay His head of a weary night! Lave the black gown, I say! What for wu'd a powr Irish priest be doin' a-wearin' of radiant white?
He threw his curly head back and laughed till his sides shook. "Lor', I didn't think I wor going to know quite so soon! An' sich queer 'arf-crowns, they ses, as she keeps a-changin'. Jarge somethin' an old cove in a wig. An' 'ere they is, I'll be blowed some on 'em. Well, yer a nice 'un, yer are!" He stared her up and down with a kind of admiration.
"It's your show, Sandy Kilday!" he said, half aloud, with a bit of a brogue that flavored his speech as the salt flavors the sea air. "You don't want to be a bloomin' old weather-vane, a-changin' your mind every time the wind blows. Is it go, or stay?"
He threw his curly head back and laughed till his sides shook. 'Lor, I didn't think I wor goin to know quite so soon! An sich queer 'arf-crowns, they ses, as she keeps a-changin. Jarge somethin an old cove in a wig. An 'ere they is, I'll be blowed some on 'em. Well, yer a nice un, yer are! He stared her up and down with a kind of admiration. Bessie began to cry feebly the crying of a lost soul.
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