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Updated: June 16, 2025
Look thar!" she pointed tragically toward a wreck of humanity that reeled into the alley just then. "Would yez loike to be loike that? My mon come home loike that ivvery day of his loife, rist his bones, an' he nivver knowed whin he died." Maudlin tears rolled down the poor creature's cheeks, for they could be no tears of affection. Her man's departure from this life could have been but a relief.
"How'd you know I was Irish?" demanded the patient. "By yoursilf's name," quoth P. Sybarite in a thick brogue as natural as grass, while he worked away busily. "'Tis black Irish, and well I know it. 'Twas me mither's maiden name Kenny. She had a brother, Michael he was and be way av bein' a rich conthractor in this very town as ever was, befure he died God rist his sowl!
And then Mrs. O'Callaghan said: "As for the rist, you'll all go to school but Larry, an' him I'll take with me when I go a washin'. I know I can foind thim in the town that'll help a poor widow that much, an' that's all the help I want, too. Bad luck to beggars. I'm none of 'em."
Slavin released the man's shoulder with a testy, balked gesture. "Yes! enjoyin' th' racket an' dhrunk like th' rist, I guess! . . . 'Tis a foine sort av town-constable yez are!" Nick Lee maintained his air of injured innocence. "I came round here 'bout midnight, anyways!" he protested. "I always do jes' t' see 'f everythin's all right.
"Hoot, man!" he said, "I wad but lat ye see I'm nae lan'louper, an' can weel han'le a spaud. Stan' ye by a bit, an' rist yer banes, till I caw throuw a trifle o' yer wark." "An' what du ye expec' to come o' that? Ye're efter something, as sure's the deevil at the back yelt, though ye're nae freely sae sure to win at it."
"Well, I persume I sh'll have to keep pigs, Mike," he said, in a compromising tone; "but I shan't dress 'em in calliker, nor larn 'em to sing Old Hundred. I sh'll jest let 'em rampage around the woods, an' when I want one on 'em, I'll shoot'im." "Yis, bedad, an' thin ye'll shkin 'im, an' throw the rist of 'im intil the river," responded Mike, contemptuously.
A broad grin replaced the questioning expression on his face. "I did box ye'er ears good, didn't I, sor? but go along wid yer, th' trouble ye made me, ye an' Miss Alice a-traipsin' over me flower-beds." Then, with a sigh: "Ah, sor, I remimber it as if 'twas yisterday. Miss Alice's mother was livin' thin, God rist her soul. Thank ye, sor, f'r remimberin' me. I'll call Mrs. Gorham an' Miss Alice."
There's a smell of turf and burnin' brush comin' in the windy. I have me tobaccy. A good fine day and rist to ye, lad. Times I wish your mother had larned to read, so I might hear the rest about the hippopotamus but let that be." "Now, what is this foolishness he talks of hippopotamuses?" asked Danny of his mother, as he passed through the kitchen. "Have you been taking him to the Zoo?
The filing of this claim ain't the only thing that takes him to Dawson City." "What do you think of the deposit here?" "I b'lave it's one of the richest finds in the Kloondike counthry, and if it turns out as it promises, we shall go home and live like gintlemen the rist of our lives." Tim McCabe and the boys wrought steadily through the rest of the day and the following two days.
"I'll no du that, Grizzie; but come ye an' luik at him," said the laird, "an' tell me what ye think. I makna a doobt he's deid, but gien ye hae ony, we'll du what we can; an' we'll sit up wi' the corp thegither, an' lat yoong an' auld tak the rist they hae mair need o' nor the likes o' you an' me." It was a proud moment in Grizzle's life, one never forgotten, when the laird addressed her thus.
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