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Didn't they go into my heart at the time, an' how could I forget them? But I can't bear, somehow, to look back at what we wor then, bekase I feel my heart brakin', acushla!" "Well, Vara, look at me. Amn't I a poor wasted crathur now, in comparishment to what I was thin?" "God he sees the change that's in you, darlin'! But sure 'twasn't your fau't, or mine either, Dominick, avilish!"
"Connor, avick," said he, "Connor, sure you'll not blame me in this business? sure you won't blame your poor, heart broken father, let thim say what they will, sure you won't, avilish?" "Don't fret on my account, father," said the sonj "why should I blame you? God knows you're strivin' to do what you would wish for me."
A groan for the Protestant parson, father darlin'!" Bravo, Mr. Lucre! That ditch was well cleared!" "Devil a purtier, father jewel! Parra Gastha's a darlin', and brought you over like a bird hurra!" "Have you no whip, Mr. Lucre? Whip and spur, sir, or the Popish garran will be in before you. By the great Boyne, I'm afraid the charger's blown." "God enable you, father avilish! Blown!
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