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Updated: May 19, 2025
"Is it me that would be runnin' arrants to the King of All Ireland," Naggeneen answered: "me, that don't belong to your thribe at all, and forty lazy spalpeens around here wearin' their legs off wid dancin' or rustin' them off wid doin' nothin' at all?" "It's thrue you don't belong to me thribe," said the King, "and glad I am of that same. But while ye stay in me rath ye'll do what I bid ye.
But this was no ordhinary wolf. As he heerd th' low cry iv' his mate he was indowed with th' strength iv a thousand piany movers. With a gesture iv impatience he shed his coat, f'r it was Spring, childher, an' he shud've been more careful; he shed his coat, swiftly climbed th' tree an' boldly advanced on th' foe. His inimy give th' low growl iv his hated thribe.
"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?"
Th' expedition was delayed be wan iv th' mules sthrollin' down to th' shore an' atin' up th' afther batthry an' par-rt iv th' ram iv th' 'R-red Barn' an', befure repairs was made, Admiral Cervera heerd iv what was goin' on. 'Glory be to the saints, he says, 'what an injaynious thribe these Yankees is! says he.
"By my sowl, thin," said Chane, "I wudn't mind marryin' ye meself, an' joinin' the thribe that is, if they'll let me off from the hangin'. Tell her that, Raowl." As desired, Raoul explained his comrade's last speech, at which the woman laughed, but said nothing. "Silence gives consint.
If they keeps it up we won't be no better out here than some o' them places I've heard about back East." "'Tis a danged ignorant savage ye are, like the rest av yer thribe, wid yer talk av ruinin' the West. Fwhat wud this counthry be without money?
You called me, and here I am to the fore, though I don't belong to your pitiful little thribe, and I needn't come when you call, if I don't like." "Oh, needn't ye?" said the King. "Take off your cap now, or it'll be taken off for ye." Naggeneen took off his cap.
'Michael Hegarty, says I, 'where did ye scour up yer thievin' set o' rag-heaps? says I. 'Ye'd bate me wid blackthorns, would ye? Come on, you and your dirty thribe, till I put sivin shots into yez.
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