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"Thou's gotten ower mony yowes to thy stint, Thomas Moon," he would say to a farmer who was trying to get the better of his neighbours. "Nay, Peregrine, I reckon I've nobbut eighty, and they're lile 'uns at that." "Eighty's thy stint, but thou's gotten eighty-twee; thou can tak heam wi' thee twee o' yon three-yeer-owds, an' mind thou counts straight next yeer."
"Ye talk to the senseless clay," said Betty, rocking her body, and unconsciously playing with the raven ringlets of the trooper's hair; "it's no more will he hear, and it's but little will he mind yeer probes and yeer med'cines. Och hone," och hone! and where will be the liberty now? or who will there be to fight the battle, or gain the day?"
"When this foight's over," he announced solemnly, "there's going to be another that'll make the one at the threstle look like a Sunday School picnic; and Oireland's going to put England over her knee and spank the place yeer shirt don't cover dacent. . . . Stop it, ye loon! Make a pair o' pants o' the rest o' the ile and look respectable. Ye don't seem to remember Mollie's sex.
It was a terrible spectacle, and rendered still more striking by the melancholy occurrence of the forenoon. "That's the very identical, damnable baste himself, as murthered poor little Louis this morning, yeer honour; I knows him from the tom flesh of him under his larboard blinker, sir just where Wiggens's boathook punished him," quoth the Irish captain of the mizentop.
He continued, "I've owned her well-nigh goin on twenty year. I've put her through the perarries and through the timber, and now look yeer, straanger, you can just bet your life on't she never var-ried arry time, and if you'll just follow her sign you'll knock the centre outer the north star. She never lies, she don't."
"Ye may not ask, but A'll tell you A'm seventy-four come Michaelmas, an' A've never looked into the bricht ees o' a lassie since A' lost me wee Jean, who flit wi' a colonel o' dragoons, in the year the battle of Balaklava was fought will ye shut yeer face whilst A'm dictatin'?" "Sorry," murmured the corporal and poised his pencil.
"Well, I reckoned there might be some sense in what t' lad said, for if I could raise a seck o' seed potates like yon I'd sooin' mak my fortune. But then I bethowt me o' t' time o' t' yeer, and I said: "'But wheer's t' sense o' settin' a potate at t' back-end? "'Thou'll not have to wait so lang to see what cooms on 't, he replied, and then he turned on his heel an' left me standin' theer.
The Judge, looking grave, and casting his eye learnedly over the pages of a ponderous statute book, inquires of Mr. Seargent Stubbs what the charge is. "Disturbed the hole neighborhood. A fight atween the Donahues, yer Honor." "Dorn't believe a woord of it, yeer Onher. Sure, din't Donahue black the eye o' me, and sphil the whisky too? Bad luck to Donahue, says I. You don't say that to me, says he.
He handed it to the youth, who tore open the envelope. Ye'll yet regret yeer day of birth. For Tam the Scoot is on yeer track And soon yeer dome will start to crack!" It was signed with a skull and cross-bones. The young man looked bewildered from one to the other. Every face was straight. "What what is this?" he stammered; "is it not absurd? Is it not frivolous, Herr Captain?"
"'It's seven, your Majesty, says MacBethmann, 'shall I lay out yeer synthetic sausage or shall I fry up yesterday's sauerkraut? "But the 'Sausage-Killer' shakes his head. "'Mon Angus, he says, 'A've had a heedious dream. A' dreamt, says he, 'that A' went for to kill a wee sausage and A' dived for him and missed him and before A' could recover, the sausage bit me. 'Tis a warning, says he.
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