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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Moike was sayin' his head throubles him a good bit." "So it does, and that's why I am so worried. When he gets those awful pains he is apt to walk away and keep right on without knowing where he is going." "Poor mon! Oi wisht Oi could help yez. Mebbe Moike will be back soon. Ain't Jack Rasco about?" "No, he is off with Pawnee Brown, too.
"Marrying?" cried Ethel. "Poor, darling Minnie! Oh, you can not you will not marry them?" "Sure an' I don't know but it's the best thing I can do as things are," said the priest. "Oh, what shall I do! what shall I do!" moaned Ethel. "Well, ye've got to bear up, so ye have. There's throubles for all of us, an' lots av thim too; an' more'n some av us can bear."
"Why, Darby," said Reillaghan, "we expected you long ago: why didn't you come sooner?" "The Lord's will be done! for ev'ry man has his throubles," replied Darby, stuffing himself in the corner like an Epicure; "an' why should a sinner like me, or the likes of me, be without thim? 'Twas a dhrame I had last night that kep me.
O'Brien," said Peter, "but I can't see why goold wouldn't be goold, wherever you could find it." "It's not sensible," said John, "to be talkin' of findin' gold in the streets, but there's a deal in what Peter says, for all that, and it's often I've thought, too, that I'ld go to the States and be away from all these throubles, if only we could save up the money to take us all there.
Faith, England owes Ireland more than she can pay, and it's not her business to be thravelin' round criticisin' the throubles she's helped to projuce." Mr. Rose. "William Ewart Gladstone did enough for your island to make up for all the harm that the other statesmen may or may not have done." Mr.
Me poor dada is gone where he's out of his throubles, please God; an' amn't I too well off myself here in this grand place, with me a'nt an' everywan so kind to me? Ye ought to be ashamed o' yourself, Elleney, to go cryin' an' frettin' when it's down on your knees ye should be, thankin' God. Hurry up now, an' on with your clothes an' get the breakfast!
And then Macdermot told the priest exactly what had passed; how headstrong Feemy was, how infatuated she was with her lover, and how regardless of what any one could say to her on the subject; "and now, Father John, what on 'arth shall I do at all, for the heart's broken in me, with all the throubles that's on me."
The strength of this argument did not exactly strike Feemy, but she thought it was all right, and said nothing. "And then the throubles of a married life, darling, supposing them is too many for me, what'll I do at all? I wonder, Miss Feemy, will I get any sleep at all?" "Indeed, Mary, I was never married; but why shouldn't you sleep?"
Sure, she continued lightly, we weemin 're niver contint wid the throubles of the day. We're that curious we must be wonderin' how much more's comin'. We may boast iv bein' sensible an' sthrong, but we're alwiz pushin' our tentacles out to feel the sorrow iv to-morrow. I reckoned you'd be hatin' me in a week, ma bouchal.
That, you see, and your own throubles, put my mind ashanghran for 'a start. But, upon my sanctity, an' sure that's a great oath wid me only for the Holy Carol you bought from me the night before, an' above all touchin' you wid the blessed Cruciwhix, you'd never a' got over the same accident. Oh, you may smile an' shake your head, but it's thruth whether or not! Glory be to God!"
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