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Updated: May 12, 2025
"But ye don't mind s' much th' starvation of all yer other wee brothers an' sisters on th' streets, do ye?" There was a commotion behind the paper partition. The group stood in breathless silence until the hunger question was put, then they "dunched" each other and made faces. My father took a handful of my hair, and gave it a good-natured but vigorous tug to prevent an explosion.
I "dunched" my brother, who lay beside me, with my elbow. "Go an' see if oul Hughie's livin' or dead," I said. "Ye cudn't kill 'im," he said. "How d'ye know?" "I heerd a quare story about 'im last night!" "Where?" "In th' barber's shop." "Is he a feerie?" "No." "What is he?" "Close yer thrap an' lie still!" Somebody opened the door and walked in. I slid into my clothes and climbed down.
Withero took his pipe out of his mouth and spat in the ashes as a preface to a few remarks. "Aye," he grunted, "I cocked m' ears up an' dunched oul Jamie whin Armshtrong said that. Jamie cudn't hear it, so I whispered t' m'self, 'Begorra, if a wee fella turns up whin Anthrim turns 'im out it's little credit t' Anthrim I'm thinkin'!"
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