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"God bless you, asthore, for thim words! and they're thrue thrue as the gospel, arrah what are you both so proud of? I defy you to get the aquil of my son in the barony of Lisnamona, either for face, figure or temper! I say he's fit to be a husband for as good a gill as ever stood in your daughter's shoes; an' from what I hear of her, she's as good a girl as ever the Almighty put breath in.

He ordered hot whisky and water, mutton chops, dry clothes for Miss Purcell, fires, tea, buttered toast, poached eggs and other delicacies simultaneously and immediately, and the voice of Mary Ann Whooly imploring Heaven's help for herself and its vengeance upon her inadequate assistants was heard far in the streets of Drinagh. Faith, they'll do ye grand! Arrah, why not, asthore!

"Throth, an' Oona will take a glass, herself, this night," added her mother; "an' thanks be to Goodness she'll be our colleen dhas dhun again won't you have a glass, asthore machree?" "I'll do anything that any of you wishes me, mother," replied Una.

"What is it, asthore?" asked the woman; "what is it you want?" "Lave me wid my mother," he said; "let me go to her; my poor father's dead, an' left us oh! let me stay with her." The poor boy's voice was so low and feeble, that it was with difficulty she heard the words, which she repeated to the priest.

"Why, thin, your Reverence," replied the widow, "he's now in his grave, and, thank God, it's he that had the dacent funeral all out ten good gallons did we put over you, asthore, and it's yourself that liked the dacent thing, any how but sure, sir, it would shame him where he's lyin', if we disregarded him so far as to go home widout bringing in our friends, that didn't desart us in our throuble, an' thratin' them for their kindness."

And this dear little girl, one of my chosen friends, Ruth Craven, has come with me." "Ah, now, how sweet of her!" said Miss O'Flynn, turning to Ruth. "Kiss me, my darling. Why, then, you are as welcome as though you were the core of my heart for being so kind to my sweet Kathleen. Come to the light, Kathleen asthore, and let me look at you. But it isn't as rosy you are as you used to be.

Didn't I give you just the price?" he inquired, somewhat impatiently. The old woman bent forward and peered anxiously into his face; her kind but searching eyes seemed to look down into his very soul, as, in a voice trembling with emotion, she replied: "Yes: but tell me, asthore, where did ye get the money?" Tom's countenance changed; he tried to put her off, saying, "Pshaw!

"I do pity you, asthore: but don't be cast down, for I have my trust in God that he won't desart you in your last hour. You did what you could, my heart's pride; you bent before him night an' mornin', and sure the poor neighbor never wint from your door widout lavin' his blessin' behind him."

"Fardorougha dear, Fardorougha asthore machree, won't you be guided by me? You're now on your death bed, an' think of God's marcy it's that you stand most in need of. Sure, ayourneen, if you had all the money you ever had, you couldn't bring a penny of it where you're goin'." "Well, but I'm givin' Connor advice that'll sarve him.

He was not to withdraw from the ring, it appeared, but only to take up his stand in one corner of it with Champion Dermot Asthore, Champion Munster, and a magnificent hound named Cormac. The Judge was making notes on slips of paper now, and in another minute or so the ring was empty, save for the three hounds mentioned and Finn.