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Updated: June 8, 2025
They fell upon a man named Smith, and the dealer, after some thought, took up his glass and went over to him. "I want you to do something for me," he remarked, in a mysterious voice. "Ah, I've been wanting to see you," said Smith, who was also a dealer in a small way. "One o' them hins I bought off you last week is dead." "I'll give you another for it," said Miller.
"And the others are so forgetful," continued Mr. Smith. "Forgetful?" repeated the other. "Forget to lay, like," said Mr. Smith, musingly. "Never mind about them," said Mr. Miller, with some animation. "I want you to do something for me. If it comes off all right, I'll give you a dozen hins and a couple of decentish-sized pigs." Mr. Smith called a halt. "Decentish-sized" was vague.
"Blathers!" said her nephew, "git down out of that wid your yawpin'. D'you want the folk here to think you're a sackful of ould hins? And go in and be seein' after a bit of fire; it's late enough to be sure. What fool's talk have you about the Union, and bad luck to it? You'll find the things for the supper in the inside of the ould churn. Union, moyah!"
"Where's Nora?" he insisted, and the Quins looked at each other and laughed. "Ourselves is old hins that's hatched ducks," confessed Patrick. "Ain't I afther telling you she's gone into trade on the Road?" and he took his pipe from his mouth, that after-supper pipe which neither prosperity nor adversity was apt to interrupt.
"I would bet a sack of potatoes to a bag of meal that one o' thim very hins is afther layin' an egg, by the cluck of her!" He shouted and whistled, and a woman came to the door. "Do you happen to have any new-laid eggs about the place, ma'am?" asked the carter. "Why then, I have three," said the woman, "nice an' warm from the nest. Would ye be wantin' thim?"
At last Biddy said: "Well, your reverence, it isn't because there are no hins brooding. You'll get brooding hins at every time in the year; but, you see, you can't rear chickens earlier than March. The end of February is the earliest I have ever seen. But, of course, if you could rear them in January, all that the young lady said would be quite right. I have nothing to say agin it.
"But the very next morning something 'appened that made Bob Pretty look silly and wish 'e 'adn't talked quite so fast; for at five o'clock Frederick Scott, going down to feed 'is hins, found as the tiger 'ad been there afore 'im and 'ad eaten no less than seven of 'em.
"'There's the tiger, ses Henery Walker, pointing at Bob Pretty; 'that's wot old man Parsley meant. "'Somebody go and fetch Policeman White, ses a voice. "'I wish they would, ses Bob Pretty. "I'll 'ave the law on you all for breaking into my 'ouse like this, see if I don't. "'Where'd you get all this pork from? ses the blacksmith. "'And them ducks and hins? ses George Kettle.
"Well, now, I never seen that quare little body in this counthry before, and we're very apt to not set eyes on her agin. God be good to us all, but the likes of her is to be pitied. She's worse off than the two of us. But bedad, Winnie, if thim hins there don't prisintly take to layin' a thrifle, it's in a tight houle we'll be ourselves. I dunno what's bewitchin' them.
We want a change from tinned Army rations and the tough ould hins that these benighted haythins call chickens." "Yes, you'll be a Godsend to us if you're a good shot, Wargrave," added the Commandant. "We never get meat here unless someone shoots a stag or a buck in the jungle; and for that we generally have to rely on Dermot.
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