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An' I wint away, lavin' him singin' 'On th' Three-tops' to th' kids on his knees. "Well, he comes down th' road tonight afther th' wind had turned, with his old hat on th' back iv his head, whistlin' 'Th' Rambler fr'm Clare' and I stopped to talk with him. 'Glory be, says I, ''tis pleasant to breathe th' cool air, says I. 'Ah, he says, ''tis a rale good avnin', he says.
But one avnin' a black man be th' name iv Shaughnessy, that had thramped acrost th' hills fr'm Galway just in time to rent f'r th' potato rot, wint and hid himself in a hedge along th' road with a shotgun loaded with hardware under his coat.
'Twas wild while it lasted, says I. 'Ye may say so, says he. 'Well, please Gawd, says I, 'that it left none worse off thin us. 'It blew ill f'r some an' aise f'r others, says he. 'Th' babby is gone. "An' so it was, Jawn, f'r all his rockin' an' singin'. An' in th' avnin' they burried it over th' side into th' sea. An' th' little man see thim do it." "I suppose, Jawn," said Mr.
'But look how cold it was last winter, he says. 'Th' crops need weather like this, he says. I'd like to have hit him with a chair. Sundah night I wint over to see him. He was sittin' out in front, with a babby on each knee. 'Good avnin', says I. 'Good avnin', he says. 'This is th' divvle's own weather, I says. 'I'm suffocatin'. ''Tis quite a thaw, he says.
"They was no insurance A good avnin' to ye, Mrs. Doyle. Ye're goin' over, thin? I was there las' night, an' a finer wake I niver see. They do nawthin' be halves. How was himsilf? As natural as life? Yes, ma'am, rayqueem high mass, be carredges to Calv'ry. "On th' twinty-fifth iv Siptimber a change come.
"They was th' wan girl left, Theresa, a big, clean-lookin' child that I see grow up fr'm hello to good avnin'. She thought on'y iv th' ol' man, an' he leaned on her as if she was a crutch. She was out to meet him in th' ev'nin'; an' in th' mornin' he, th' simple ol' man, 'd stop to blow a kiss at her an' wave his dinner-pail, lookin' up an' down th' r-road to see that no wan was watchin' him.
It rained all August, an' th' boys wint about on rafts; an' a sthreet-car got lost fr'm th' road, an' I dhrove into th' canal, an' all on boord 'Avnin', Mike. Ah-ha, 'twas a great fight. An' Buck got his eye, did he? A good man. "Well, Jawn, along come Siptimber. It begun fairly warrum, wan hundherd or so in th' shade; but no wan minded that.