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Updated: June 15, 2025
They, too, had discovered that the liquid emitted by the Hawkins Chemico-Sprinkler System bit into the human epidermis like fire. "Phat is it? Phat is it?" the cook was drearily intoning, when hurrying footsteps turned my attention once more to the stairs. Hawkins was coming down at a gallop. In his arms he carried a keg, which dribbled white powder over the beautiful carpet.
"Well, what do you think of that!" exclaimed Pepper, when Win had gone. "Shure, an' phat mischief are ye's plotting now?" demanded Gerald, who came across the lawn as his brother slipped away. "More monkey tricks," responded Rand. "Monkey is going to surprise us to-night." "Is he now?" asked Gerald; "and phat is he up to now?"
May be she looked like somebody that I knew at home, and may be she had a big brother in the Confederate army who would look me up after the war and everlastingly maul the life out of me for insulting his sister. I made up my mind if anything of that kind happened I would tell on the general and the colonel, and get them whipped, too. "Phat the divil is it coming," said the Irishman.
And you, Patrick Sarsfield?" to the next boy. "Leg," said Patrick Sarsfield, succinctly. Mr. Murphy dropped the carver and fork, and made a splotch of gravy on the table. "What?" he shouted. "Hev ye not hear-r-rd two legs already bespoke, Patrick Sarsfield, an' ye come back at me for another? Phat for kind of a baste do ye think this is? I'm not carvin' a cinterpede, I'd hev ye know!"
"Phat's that in all the worrld?" exclaimed Mrs. Carroll. "Hivin preserve us, it's little Patsy. Tim, ye'll 'av to be spakin' to that child for the swearin'. Listen to the oaths av 'im. The Lord forgive 'im!" Tim strode to the door, followed by his wife. "Phat the blank, blank is this yellin' about? Phat d'ye mane swearin' loike that, Patsy?
He stumbled around the lower hallway for several minutes and then called out softly: "Dick! Dick! Where are you?" No answer came back, and he continued his search. Then, lighting a match, he mounted the rickety stairs and called out again. "Phat are ye a-raisin' such a row about?" demanded an Irish voice suddenly, and a front room door was thrown open. "Can't ye let a dasent family slape?"
How in the world do you expect to live and keep a horse on seventy cents a day?" "Some days I have half a dozen jobs, sor. But bizness has been dull to-day, sor. On'y the hauling of a thrunk for a gintilman for forty cints an' a load av furniture for thirty cints; an' there was the pots an' the kittles, an' there's no telling phat; a big load, sor."
"Corporal of the guaod, the quane of all the South is coming down the road, riding a high stepper. Phat will I do, I dunno?" "Stop her," I yelled with my teeth chattering. "Halt right fhere yez are," said the Irishman, with a look on his face that showed he was well, that he was an Irishman, and had an eye for beauty.
"Aw, it's the beautiful singer she is," as the girl struck up a new song. "Listen to that now." Full, clear, soft, like the warbling of the thrush at evening, came the voice through the closed door. The man and his wife stood listening with a rapt look on their faces. "Phat in Hivin's name is she singin', at all?" said Mrs. Carroll. "Whisht!" said her husband, holding up his hand.
Pride lies above pain; and Sandy held his head very high as he steadied himself by the table and looked toward Bridget for further orders. "Phat wull a do the noo?" he asked.
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