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"We are, Honor, we are; there's not his aquil in the parish achora machree that he is. When I'm gone he'll know what I've done for him." "Whin you're gone; why, Saver of arth, sure you wouldn't keep him out of his husth! here he is, God be thanked! poor boy he's safe. Oh, thin, vich no Hoiah, Connor jewel, were you out undher this terrible night?"
She looked at him for a moment, then at her parents; and her cheek still got paler, and after a slight pause she burst into a vehement and irrepressible paroxysm of grief. "John, is this true?" inquired his father. "Vic va hoiah! John blessed mother! thrue? but is it, John? is it?" "Indeed, it is, mother the villain, now, that he has no hope of his life, confessed it this day!"
"Divil a much, barrin' what you hard yourself, I suppose, about Frank Fogarty, that went mad yesterday, for risin' the meal on the poor, an' ate the ears off himself afore anybody could see him." "Vick na hoiah, Phelim; do you tell me so?" "Why man o' Moses, is it possible you did not hear it, ma'am?" "Oh, worra, man alive, not a syllable! Ate the ears off of himself!
"Who?" said Biddy; "why, I dunna, save but no, it couldn't." "Faix but it could, though," said Ned, mistaking her, as the matter turned out. "Why, vick na hoiah, no! Connor O'Donovan back! Oh! no, no, Ned; that 'ud be too good news to be thrue." The honest lad shook his head with an expression of regret that could not be mistaken as the exponent of a sterling heart.
O'Brien, in a state of most dignified offence; "Damho orth, you ould knave! is it the son of a miser that has fleeced an' robbed the whole counthry side that we 'ud let our daughther, that resaved the finish to her edication in a Dubling boardin' school, marry wid? Vic na hoiah this day!"
"Now," said young O'Brien, when they got into the back parlor, "it's right that you both should know to what length the courtship between Una and Connor O'Donovan has gone." "Coortship! Vich no hoiah! sure she wouldn't go to coort wid the son o' that ould schamer." "I'm beginning to fear that it's too thrue," observed the Bodagh; "and if she has but let us hear John."
Queen o' heaven, Owen M'Carthy darlin', you're welcome!" the word was here interrupted by a hearty kiss from the kind housewife; welcome a thousand an' a thousand times! Vick ne hoiah! Owen dear, an' are you livin' at all? An' Kathleen, Owen, an' the childhre, an' all of yez an' how are they?" "Throth, we're livin' an' well, Bridget; never was betther, thanks be to God an' you, in our lives."
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