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'Why, said he, "it ain't got no beginning and no end. It's all middle. 'Kenilworth. Do yer like it?" "Ay!" said Paul. "It's foine." "Who do yer think wrote it?" As both cover and a hundred pages at the beginning, including the title-page, to say nothing of a hundred pages at the end, were missing, Paul had no clue to the authorship. "Dunno," said he. "Sir Walter Scott." Paul jumped to his feet.
"He's Johny Canuck, isn't he?" asked Madame, with a feeble attempt at gaiety. "Oh, no, ma'am," cried the mother hastily. "'E's William 'Enery, after 'is paw. We ain't got 'im christened yet. But jist as soon's I can get 'im a dress the pawson, 'e's a foine man, 'e says 'e'll come an' do 'im, an' if my man jist keeps nicely saved, we'll be gettin' a dress. But it's been 'ard on my man.
"An' it's the foine young man he is, the picter of his feyther." She would have taken him in her arms and hugged him but for the presence of others, but, afterwards, when alone with him she patted his curly head and told him that he would have to be a fine man to be as good as his father.
"Pore lamb!" said Jane, sympathetically; "I'm thinkin' ye're purty nigh dead, be now. But here's the foine lunch for ye. See, darlint, here's chicken and strawberries and jelly and all the things ye like best! Cheer up, now, and ate yer food." "Indeed, I will! Oh, Jane, what lovely things! Fresh little cakes, with pink icing; and gooseberry jam! But don't go away, Jane." "I must, Miss Midget.
"But bain't 'ee got larning?" the miner said. "Thou canst read and write foine, which is more nor I can do and what dost want more?" "Oi'm a going to get larning," Jack said again, steadily repeating the formula, "and oi'm gwine soom day to be a manager." Bill Haden stared at the boy and then burst into a fit of laughter. "Well, this bangs a'." Mrs. Haden was as surprised but more sympathetic.
You parliament gentlemen must hauve a vaust deal of trouble on your haunds very foine property I understaund yours is, sir. Sir, allow me to drink the health of your good lady!" "I thank you, Mr. , Mr. , what did you say your name was? I beg you a thousand pardons." "No offaunce in the least, sir; no ceremony with me this is perticler good madeira!" "May I ask how I can serve you?" said Mr.
"Aileen, God bless her, is such a foine girl," or "Norah, the darlin', is sick the day." But Aileen, her airs, her aggressive disposition, her love of attention, her vanity, irritated and at times disgusted Mrs. Cowperwood. She was eighteen now, with a figure which was subtly provocative.
Didn't I be tellin' you, Pat, that I knew there was them in this town would help me that way? But what makes you all look so glum? Didn't you foind the school foine the day? Niver moind! You ain't acquainted yet. And jist remember that iverybody has a deal to bear in this world, and the poor most of all. If anybody does you a rale wrong, come tell me of it.
'Bedad, and it's him has the foine nose for turkey! said Blaney, a good-natured, jovial Irishman. 'Yes, or for pay-day, more like, said Keefe, a black-browed, villainous fellow-countryman of Blaney's, and, strange to say, his great friend. Big Sandy M'Naughton, a Canadian Highlander from Glengarry, rose up in wrath.
O'Toole rose from his place of concealment, grinning triumphantly. "Begorra, Oi think Oi saved mesilf a foine hole in me shkin," he chuckled, as he advanced.
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