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Updated: June 17, 2025
"She isn't able to carry it herself," said their father; "or maybe she's comin' to get one of you Con, I suppose to go for it. Bad as Skinadre is, he wouldn't have the heart to refuse us a lock o' meal to keep the life in us. Oh! no, he'd not do that." In a few moments Mrs. Dalton entered, and after looking upon the scene of misery about her, she sat down and burst into tears.
"Ay, has there a very daicent respectable man has it, by name one Darby Skinadre. "At any rate there's no harm in tryin' worse than fail we can't, an' if we succeed it'll be good to come in for anything from the ould scoundrel, before the devil gets him." Jemmy gave him a look. "Why, what have you to say against the ould boy? Sure it's not casting reflections on your own masther you'd be."
Oh, if we had now the five hundre good pounds that we spent upon our farm spent, as it turned out, not for ourselves, but to enable that ould villain of a landlord to set it to Darby Skinadre; for I b'lieve it's he that's to get it, with strong inthrest goin' into his pocket for all our improvements; if we had now," he continued, his passion rising, "if we had that five hundre pounds now, or one hundre, or one pound, great God! ay, or one shillin' now, wouldn't it save some of you from starving"
"Augh," said Skinadre, "by the livin' it's in him, an' I always knew it was the rale drop." "Boys," said Harte, "go off wid yez out o' this, I say; divil a foot you'll come in." "Arra go to Jimmaiky; who cares about you, Syl, when we have Art's liberty? Sure we didn't know the thing ourselves half an hour ago."
Such was Darby Skinadre; and certain we are that the truth of the likeness we have given of him will be at once recognized by our readers as that of the roguish hypocrite, whose rapacity is the standing curse of half the villages of the country, especially during the seasons of distress, or failure of crops.
"Your name," proceeded the agent, "is Darby Skinadre?" "Yes, sir." "And you have given this gentleman the sum of a hundred pounds, as a bribe, for promising you a lease of Cornelius Dalton's farm?"
Sure, any way, it's down to dirt since the wars is over butther is; if it was anything else but butther, Molly: but it's of no use; I've too much of it." "The sorra other thing I have, thin, Mr. Skinadre; but sure you had betther look at it, an' you'll find it's what butther ought to be, firm, claine, and sweet." "I can't take it, achora; there's no market for it now."
"No matther for that, sorrow foot yez'll put acrass the thrashel this evenin'; now, I'll toll you what, Skinadre, I wouldn't this blessed minute, for all I've earned these six months, that ye came this evenin'; I have my raisons for it; Art Maguire is a boy that we have no right to compare ourselves wid you all know that."
"No; but they say he's risin' the counthry to punish Dick o' the Grange and Darby Skinadre the one, he says, for puttin' his father and themselves out o' their farm; and the other for bein' the death, he says, of poor Peggy there and the child; an' for tak in', or offerin' to take, the farm over their heads." The old woman then looked around, and, asked "Where is Brian?
About half a mile from the Sullivan's, lived a remarkable man of this class, named Darby Skinadre.
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