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'Get to bed now; ye'll tak' your death runnin' round in the cowld widout your clothes on. "In our excitement we had forgotten that the mercury outside was nearly down to zero, and had not noticed the cold; but Pat's words quickened our sensitiveness, so we hastened shivering to bed, and the house was again quiet.
I went out, wantin' my coat, about a week ago, an' got cowld in the small o' the back; I've a pain in it ever since. Be sittin'." "Is your heart safe? You have no smotherin' or anything upon it?" "Why thin, thank goodness, no; it's all about my back an' my inches." "Divil a thing it is but a complaint they call an alloverness ails you, you shkaimer o' the world wide.
'Gentleman born, said Mulvaney; 'Corp'ril wan year, Sargint nex'. Red-hot on his C'mission, but dhrinks like a fish. He'll be gone before the cowld weather's here. So! He slipped his boot, and with the naked toe just touched the trigger of his Martini.
I've kep' company wid ye a year, and ye've jist blowed hot and cowld till I'm not meself any more, and have come nigh losin' me place. Noo, by St. Patrick, ye must show whether ye're a woman or a heartless jade that will sind a man to the divil for sport."
"No, thank ye, Paydro," replied Tim rubbing his hands at sight of the eatables; "this will do foorst rate, me bhoy. Misther Gray-ham, why don't ye fire away, ma bouchal? Sure an' y'r tay's gettin' cowld."
I s'y, you know, it must feel awf'ly peculiar to get bowled over on a d'y like this. I'd rather 'ave it on a cowld and frosty morning, wouldn't you? 'Ow are you off now, for the notion of a future styte? Do you cotton to the tea-fight views, or the old red-'ot bogey business?" "O, dry up!" said the captain. "No, but I want to know," said Huish.
In the morning they rise to a day of hardship, no matter how bright and cheerful it may be to others nor is there any hope of a brighter day for them: and at night they go to their hard beds to strive to sleep away their hunger in spite of cowld and want.
'An' there's your chair waitin' for you beside the fire, Mr. Irons, this month an' more a cowld evening and we all wondherin' what in the wide world was gone widg ye this I do'no how long. 'Thank ye, Ma'am a pipe and a glass o' punch. Irons was always a man of few words, and his laconics did not strike Mistress Molloy as anything very strange.
Didn't my childer die of the cowld and the hunger, and the want of a roof over them, and didn't I love them? Ah! that I did. Do you remember the night I said I'd drown ye in the Banshee's pool, and didn't we make a compact that if I let ye go you'd get the Squire to lave me my bit of a cabin, and not to evict me? And how did ye kape your word? Ah, my purty, how did ye kape your word?"
"If you are not sure of the sheets bein' aired," said Andy, "I'd be afeard of catchin' cowld." "Sheets, indeed!" said Bridget; "'faith, it's a dainty lady you are, if you can't sleep without sheets." "What!" returned Andy, "no sheets?" "Divil a sheet." "Oh, mother, mother!" exclaimed Andy, "what would you say to your innocent child being tuk away to a place where there was no sheets?"
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