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It did not require much entreaty to induce my communicative friend to relate the circumstance, in nearly the following words: 'Terence Mooney was an honest boy and well to do; an' he rinted the biggest farm on this side iv the Galties; an' bein' mighty cute an' a sevare worker, it was small wonder he turned a good penny every harvest.
"'Twas one avenin' about siven or eight o'clock. Me an' me family were up stairs, clanin' out an office that has just been rinted. Kittie, me gurrel, wint down stairs for some extra dustin' rags. Whin she came back, she said she saw a man a-walkin' through the hallway outside. She said that as soon as he saw her, he didn't wait for the illevator, but went down the stairs in a big hurry."
"An' I'm glad he's back," said the fostering aunt, "for I was a coomin' over to till ye that I've been hearin' from owle Pat, his dad, an' he's a coomin' back from the moines, and I don't know what he'd a' said if he'd found his leetle Pat was rinted.
"An' what's Mike to do? Sure we can help some way." "That you can, Pat. I was comin' to that. Did you notice the biggest room in the little house we rinted the day?" Pat nodded. "I thought you did. You're an obsarvin' b'y, Pat, jist loike your father. Well, I belave that room will jist about hold three beds an' lave a nate little path betwane ivery two of 'em.
It will ease my sorrow, for my poor heart is breaking entirely, and he is there," pointing to the corpse, "and he knows that what I am afther telling you is thrue. "I came of poor but dacent parints. There was but the two of us, Pat C and I. My father rinted a good farm, and he sint Pat to school, and gave him the eddication of a jintleman.
'An' to this day the farm is rinted by one iv Terence Mooney's lenial and legitimate postariors. Let the reader fancy a soft summer evening, the fresh dews falling on bush and flower.
His father was a warm houlder in Errigle-Trough, and had my father been patient and industhrious, he would in a few years have rinted as good an hundhred acres as there was in that section.
"Well, he sint out letthers to all th' Roscommon Dooleys; an' on a Saturdah night we come together in a rinted hall an' held th' reunion. 'Twas great sport f'r a while.
"He had a house back iv my place, he ownded th' fifty feet frontin' on Grove Sthreet, bought it fr'm a man named Grogan, an' 'twas rinted be a widdy lady be th' name iv Sullivan, wife iv a bricklayer iv th' same name. He was sthridin' into th' Widow Sullivan's house; an' says he, 'Mistress Sullivan, he says.
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