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Sister Mildred came to help me to dress, and when I went downstairs to the sweet kitchen-parlour, feeling so strong and fresh, Christian Ann, who was tossing an oat-cake she was baking on the griddle, cried to me, as to a child: "Come your ways, villish; you know the house."
God gave her the boght villish, and is she to run away from it? It's a fine blessing would be on her for that, isn't it? . . . Father Dan, I'm surprised at you such a terrible, cruel, shocking, unnatural thing as you're thinking.
I tell ell you, Bil lilly Bradly, that you'll never die on your bed for that night's wo ork." "And even if I don't, Ned, you won't have my account to answer for." "An' mighty glad I am of it: my own own's bad enough, God knows, an' for the mat matther o' that here's God pardon us all, barrin' that ould cardin' sinner amin, acheerna villish, this night! Boys, I'll sing-yes a song."
Then Grannie awoke with a start, and reproached herself for sleeping. "But dear heart alive," she cried, with both hands up, "the bogh villish is mended wonderful." Nancy came back in her stockings, blinking and yawning. She clapped and crowed at sight of the child's altered face.
You will love to hear this, pulse of our hearts, an' to know that, through all we suffered an' bittherly we did suffer since you departed we never let you out of our memory. No, asthore villish, we thought of you, an' cried afther our poor dead flower, many an' many's the time.
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