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Updated: June 3, 2025
"You are coming home with me, and you shall sleep and eat, and sleep and eat, until you are as lively as the Widow Malone, ohone, and twice as fat. Home, Dawnie dear, where we'll forget all about New York. Home, with me." I reached up uncertainly, and brought her hand down to my lips and a great peace descended upon my sick soul. "Home with you," I said, like a child, and fell asleep.
Arthur wrung his friend's hand once more, and disappeared into the vehicle; Nurse Honor made one more rush, and uttered another 'Ohone' over Abbe Phelim, who followed into the carriage; the door was shut; there was a last wail over 'Lanty, the sunbeam of me heart, as he climbed to the box seat; the harness jingled; coachman and postilions cracked their whips, the impatient horses dashed out at the porte cochere; and Arthur, after endeavouring to dispose of his legs, looked about him, and saw, opposite to him, Madame de Bourke lying back in the corner in a transport of grief, one arm round her daughter, and her little son lying across her lap, both sobbing and crying; and on one side of him the Abbe, sunk in his corner, his yellow silk handkerchief over his face; on the other, Mademoiselle Julienne, who was crying too, but with more moderation, perhaps more out of propriety or from infection than from actual grief: at any rate she had more of her senses about her than any one else, and managed to dispose of the various loose articles that had been thrown after the travellers, in pockets and under cushions.
"Oh, a wild Irish girl." "Truly wild, I should think, with that name. 'Kitty Malone, ohone! I seem to hear the refrain somewhere now. Isn't there a song called 'Kitty Malone'?" "There is a song called 'The Widow Malone," said Bessie; "don't you know it? You read all about it in 'Harry Lorrequer." "But who is Kitty Malone, Alice?" "I say a wild Irish girl."
Chairley! Chairley! Chairley Burke! ye divil, wid yer ways O' dhrivin' all the throubles aff, these dhark an' ghloomy days! Ohone! that it's meself, wid all the graifs I have to dhrown, Must lave me pick to resht a bit, sence Chairley Burke's in town.
"Ohone!" groaned Mrs Lynch, in solemn despair, as she tried to see the speaker, whom darkness rendered almost invisible. "An unbeknown island, uninhabited by nobody. Boys, we are done for intirely. Didn't I say this would be the end of it, when we made up our minds to go to say?"
"Do you mean to say that you are Pine's grandmother?" "Pine? Who is Pine? A Gentile I know not. Hearne he was born and Hearne he shall be to me, though the grass is now a quilt for him. Ohone! Hai mai! Ah, me! Woe! and woe, my gentleman.
How to explain the air I know not, for I never heard its name; but at the end of each verse a species of echo followed the last word that rendered it irresistibly ridiculous. Did ye hear of the Widow Malone, Ohone! Who lived in the town of Athlone, Alone? Oh, she melted the hearts Of the swains in them parts, So lovely the Widow Malone, Ohone! So lovely the Widow Malone.
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