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Updated: June 16, 2025
"I tuk in washin' to buy it, an' me son, poor Patsy, God rist 'is soul, he helped wid th' bit of money from the Brotherhood, whin he was kilt betune the cars. It was sivin hundred an' fifty dollars, an' now Thronson offers me four thousan'. I told him I'd sell, fer it's a fortune for a workin' woman; but befure I signed papers, I wanted to ask Mr.
All listened and heard but a short distance away: "Begorrah, Teddy, it's yerself that's entitled to a wee bit of rist, as yees have been on a mighty long tramp, and hasn't diskivered anything but a country that is big enough to hide the Atlantic ocean in, wid Ireland on its bosom as a jewel. The chances are small of yees iver gitting another glimpse of heaven that is, of Miss Cora's face.
"Fwhat ye lukkin for, Yorkey?" "Oh, nothing!" came that gentleman's answer. "Ye'll find ut in th' bottle thin." Insult was added to injury by the sergeant casually plucking that article from it's "rist" and chucking it over. Yorke's face was a study. "Oh!" cried he dismally, "what wit! . . . give three rousing cheers!" . . . He mounted once more.
By the same token, I wish I had that book in me head, for I could just squelch Dannie and Mary with it complate. Say, Mister O'Khayam, next time you come this way bring me a copy. I'm wantin' it bad. I got what you gave off all secure, but I take it there's more. No man goin' at that clip could shut off with thim few lines. Do you know the rist?"
"What good might result from that?" "None, as I knows on." "Then it's meself that thanks yees for the offer and respectfully declines to accept the nomination. I'll jist elict meself to the office of sheriff an' go about these regions wid a s'arch-warrint in my shoes that'll niver let me rist until Miss Cora is found." "Wal, I 'spose we'll part in the mornin' then.
"What is it!" he asked, pausing in his paddling. "If you saas a rid gintleman do yez jist rist till I takes aim and shoots him." "Why so blood-thirsty?" "Not blood-thirsty, but tobaccy thirsty. The haythen deal in the article, and if we saas one he must yield."
"Susan," Patty began, "you're married, aren't you?" "Yes, Miss Patty; me name is Hastings. Me husband is dead this four years, rist his sowl." "Well, Susan, I want you to do something for me, and you may think it's very queer, but you'll do it, won't you?" "Nothin's quare, Miss Patty, if you bid me do it. What is it, ma'am?"
"I'm going wid ye to the camp in the Ozark Mountains; do ye think I could rist aisy, knowin' that ye had to travel such a long distance wid no one to take care of ye?"
Here, Mister O'Khayam, here's a good place to stand. Gee, what luck! Coon in sight first thing, and Mellen's food coon at that! Shoot, Mister O'Khayam, shoot!" The Thread Man lifted the wavering gun, but it was no use. "Tell you what, Ruben," said Jimmy. "You are too tired to shoot straight. Let's take a rist, and ate our lunch. Then we'll cut down the tree and let the dogs get cooney.
But the Michty cairried me throu'. An' hoo's wee Sir Gibbie? Come in I dinna ken yer name but we're jist at the door o' my bit garret. Come quaiet up the stair, an' tell me a' aboot it." "Weel, I wadna be sorry to rist a bit, for I hae tint mysel a'thegither, an' I'm some tiret," answered Donal. "I but left the Mains thestreen."
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