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The man and his wife accordingly entered, having first wiped their feet as they had been ordered. "Well, my good man, what's your business." "Rosha, will you let his honor know what we wor spakin' about? She'll tell you, sir." "Plaise your honor," said she, "we're convarts." "Well," said Mr. Lucre, "that is at least coming to the point. And pray, my good woman, who converted you?"
Jemmy looked at her with a good deal of surprise, and, after whiffing away the smoke, asked "And well, Rosha begs pardon Mrs. Burke is it a fair question to ax where you are bound for?" "Fair enough, Mr. Burke," she replied; "but I'm not goin' to answer it." "You're bound for a journey, ma'am, I think?" "I'm bound for a journey, sir." "Is it a long journey, Mrs. Burke?"
"You druv me to it, Rosha," said he to his wife; "but I'll let you both know that I'm able to be masther in my own house still. You have made your pet what he is; but I tell you that if God hasn't said it, you'll curse one another with bitther hearts yet." "Well, sure you have your own way," replied his wife, "but you wor ever and always self-willed and headstrong.
"I say, Misther Burke, are you to see your son worse mounted at the Herringstown Hunt than any other gentleman among them? Have you no pride? "No, thank God! barin' that I'm an honest man an' no gentleman; an', as for Hycy, Rosha " "Mrs. Burke, father, if you please," interposed Hycy; "remember who your wife is at all events."
"I only want to drive him into common sense, and the respectful feeling he ought to show to both you an' me, Rosha," said Burke; "if he expects to have either luck or grace, or the blessing of God upon him, he'll change his coorses, an' not keep breakin' my heart as he's doin'." "Will you pay for the mare I bought, father?" asked Hycy, very seriously.
The Lord look down on you this day, you poor crathur widout the father of your childhre to stand up for you, an' your only other depindance laid on the broad of his back, all as one as a cripple; but no matther, Rosha; trust to Him that can be a husband to you an' a father to your orphans trust to Him, an' his blessed mother in heaven, this day, an' never fear but they'll rise up a frind for you.
But is there such a thing, sir?" "Not a penny, and so you may tell your friends." "Well, but, sir, grantin' that, still you'll acknowledge that I'm long-headed." "No, only long-winded." "Not long-headed, then?" "No, certainly not." "Damnu orth a veehone bradagh! come Rosha. Not long-headed! troth it's a poor religion to depind on an' I'll make a show of it yet, if I'm spared. Come, woman alive."
"The sorra blame I blame him, Owen," replied Rosha, "his bread's depindin' upon the likes of sich doins, an' he can't get over it; but a word from you, Owen, will save me, for who ever refused to take the word of a M'Carthy?" When Owen and the widow arrived at the house of the latter, they found the situation of the bailiff laughable in the extreme.
Poor Rosha thought that by his withdrawing he had already suspected the object of her visit, and of course concluded that her chance of succeeding was very slender. The wife, who guessed what she wanted, as well as the nature of her suspicion, being herself as affectionate and obliging as Owen, reverted to the subject, in order to give her an opportunity of proceeding.
Now it so happened that they met exactly at a narrow gap in the ditch behind Rosha Halpin's house. The goats, bein' coupled together, got one on each side of the rift, wid the rope that coupled them extended acrass it. The mare stood in the middle of it, so that the goats were in the way of the mare, an' the mare in the way of the goats.
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