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I wish I could do him an ill turn, sighed she, with some kind of expression on her face that made Kester quail a little. 'Nay, lass! he'll get it fra' others. Niver fret thysel' about sich rubbish. A'n done ill to speak on him. 'No! thou hasn't. 'Niver's a long word, said Kester, musingly. 'A could horsewhip him, or cast stones at him, or duck him mysel'; but, lass! niver's a long word!
"Be the powers! we must get the licker anyhow; av you won't, Misther Gowdey, I will; that's said, isn't it?" "Oui! Tres bien!" "Well, thin, now or niver's the time. The ould fellow's just walked out, for I saw him meself. This is a nate place to drink it in. Come an' show me where he keeps it; and, by Saint Patrick! I'm yer man to hook it." "Tres bien! allons! Monsieur Barney, allons!"
I wish I could do him an ill turn, sighed she, with some kind of expression on her face that made Kester quail a little. 'Nay, lass! he'll get it fra' others. Niver fret thysel' about sich rubbish. A'n done ill to speak on him. 'No! thou hasn't. 'Niver's a long word, said Kester, musingly. 'A could horsewhip him, or cast stones at him, or duck him mysel'; but, lass! niver's a long word!
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