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"Well, when Wallace was hiring his gardener he asked him whom he had been living with. "'Misther Dalton, sorr. "'Have you a recommendation, Terence? "'A ricommindation is it, sorr? Sure I have nothing agin Misther Dalton, though he moightn't be knowing just the respict the likes of a first-class garthener is entitled to." He did not laugh. He seldom does, it seems, at his own stories.
"Well, when Wallace was hiring his gardener he asked him whom he had been living with. "'Misther Dalton, sorr. "'Have you a recommendation, Terence? "'A ricommindation is it, sorr? Sure I have nothing agin Misther Dalton, though he moightn't be knowing just the respict the likes of a first-class garthener is entitled to." He did not laugh. He seldom does, it seems, at his own stories.
'Don't she have a bellyful o' vittels? asked John Crumb, with intense anxiety. 'I don't quite mean that. I dare say she has enough to eat. But of course she has to work for it with her aunt. She has three or four children to look after. 'That moight come in handy by-and-by; moightn't it, squoire? said John Crumb grinning.
"We might be able to kedge her off, sorr, an' thin ag'in we moightn't; but the foorst thing to say, sorr, is whither she's all roight below." "A good suggestion," answered Mr Mackay. "Tell the carpenter to sound the well at once." "That'd be no good at all, sorr," interposed the other, "for the poor craythur's got her bows hoigh an' dhry, while she's down by the starn.
She war young, an' mus' have been keerless, I reckon; though ez 'twar her fust baby, she moightn't hev been practised in holdin' it an' sech, an' somehows it slipped through her arms an' fell inter the ruver, an' war killed in a minit, dashin' agin the rocks. She jes' stood fur a second a-screamin' like a wild painter, an' jumped off'n the bredge arter it.
"Well, when Wallace was hiring his gardener he asked him whom he had been living with. "'Misther Dalton, sorr. "'Have you a recommendation, Terence? "'A ricommindation is it, sorr? Sure I have nothing agin Misther Dalton, though he moightn't be knowing just the respict the likes of a first-class garthener is entitled to." He did not laugh. He seldom does, it seems, at his own stories.
An' thin he'd ate a dozen or two av thim pork-chops, an' wash 'em down wid a gallon av black coffee an' he'd be roight fer an-nything from a carouse wid th' brown dancin' Nautch gir-rls, to a brush in th' hills wid their fightin' brown brothers. "Th' liquor's waitin' ut moightn't be as good as ye're used, but Oi've seen Captain Fronte himself shmack his lips over worse.
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