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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Fwhat div yez mane?" interrogated the Irishman evidently puzzled to interpret the other's speech. "We kin leave all them fixing in Morming City." "But will the thrain be afther thravellin' that way? Shure ye don't know that." "Certing it will. A putty consid'able pert o' it air made up o' Mormings; an' they'll be boun' to the Salt Lake. We kin foller them an' drop t'other.
"And is it the Widda O'Sullivan's boy you'd be that left this come Candlemas four years?" "The same." "Throth thin you might know better manners to your eldhers, though I'm glad to see you, anyhow, agin; but a little thravellin' puts us beyant ourselves sometimes," said Barny, rather contemptuously.
A damned bad break that was, tho', an' I'll bet he's sorry for that same, tu. Mind how he kept on thravellin', widout comin' back tu shpake wid us?" He shook his head slowly, in sinister fashion, and stared at their troubled faces in turn. "See here; luk," he resumed solemnly, with lowered voice, "honest tu God, in me own mind I du believe he is th' man that done ut."
"Loaf an these people the night. A man thravellin' his lone, an' nat a shillin' in his pocket!" "O, go an' bark up a tree, you mongrel!" replied the war-material, with profusion of adjective. "Fat lot o' good tailin' you up! A man that sets down to his dinner without askin' another man whether he's got a mouth on him or not! Gerrout! you bin dragged up on the cheap!" "Come!
"Why the misfortunate crathurs a daughter of her father's, ould Mick Duignan, of Tavenimore." "An' what about her, Phehm! What happened her?" "Faix, ma'am, a bit of a mistake she met wid; but, anyhow, ould Harry Connolly's to stand in the chapel nine Sundays, an' to make three Stations to Lough Dergh for it. Bedad, they say it's as purty a crathur as you'd see in a day's thravellin'."
She thinks bad, the cratur', of lavin' the bed, an' the ould pot, an' all our little sticks o' things behind, ye know, sir, an' I do be thinkin' I'd never get my health at all out of ould Ireland; an' any way the two of us is too ould to be thravellin' off that way.
"I'm goin' to do nothin' widout them; I'm goin' wid them." "Goin' wid them! Goin' wid them!" "Them was me words; you and your silly little thribe can do what ye like; I'm goin' wid them. It's a stuffy little place, this rath of yours, and I've a notion thravellin' would be good for me health, any way." "But how can ye go wid them?"
An' he turned aff from the door, an' wint round to the cow-house, an' settled himself as well as he could, in the sthraw; an' he was tired enough wid the thravellin' he had in the day-time, an' a good dale bothered with what liquor he had taken; so he was purty sure of sleepin' wherever he thrun himself.
"Thravellin' towards us," he muttered "th' back av th' head!" Hands clasped behind bent back, and with head thrust loweringly forward from between his huge shoulders he paced slowly down the trail for some hundred yards. That grim, intent face and the swaying gait reminded Redmond of some huge bloodhound casting about for a scent.
I'd sooner stop where I am, so I would I would so there now ye have it!" turning defiantly to his wife. "Sure it'll be the death of the two of us lavin' the ould place, an' thravellin' off across the say among strangers. An' what good will it do us, as I do be sayin' to herself here, for Larry to be puttin' up a monyement for us over beyant there, where there's ne'er a one at all that knows us?"
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