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Updated: June 18, 2025
Folks in Pogue's entry didn't always have it, but there were a number of cheap substitutes, such as hard peas or horse beans. Amongst half a dozen families in and around the entry there was a broth exchange. Each family made a few extra quarts and exchanged them. They were distributed in quart tin cans. Each can was emptied, washed, refilled and returned.
"That's harder nor ye think." "So's lyin', Jamie!" "Tell us how ye won th' champ'yunship." "Whin I finish this dhraw." He took a live coal and stoked up the bowl of his old cutty-pipe. The smacking of his lips could have been heard at the mouth of Pogue's entry. We waited with breathless interest.
When I walked into Pogue's entry about fifteen years later, it seemed like walking into another world I was a foreigner. "How quare ye spake!" Jamie said, and Mary added demurely: "Is it quality ye are that ye spake like it?" "No, faith, not at all," I said, "but it's the quality of America that makes me!" "Think of that, now," she exclaimed.
"Listen, dear," Anna said, "God's arm is not shortened." "Did ye think that an arm could be stretched from beyont th' clouds t' Pogue's entry?" "Aye." "No, dear, but God takes a han' where ever He can find it and jist diz what He likes wi' it.
In five minutes everybody in Pogue's entry heard the news. They stood at the door waiting to have a look. Matty McGrath came in to see if there was "aanythin'" she could do. "Aye," Anna said, smiling, "ye can go over an' tell oul Ann Agnew where I'm goin' so she won't worry herself t' death findin' out!" "She won't see ye," Jamie said. "She'd see a fly if it lit within a hundred yards of her!"
They went into their room conversing in an undertone. The thing was so uncanny to me that it was three o'clock next morning before I went to sleep. As early as six there was an unusual shuffling and clattering of feet over the cobblestones in Pogue's entry. We knew everybody in the entry by the sound of their footfall. The clatter was by the feet of strangers.
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