Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 3, 2025
Come, avourneen, give way to me this wanst; throth, if you do, you'll see how I'll nurse him, an' what a darlin' lump o' sugar I'll have him for you in no time!"
"Come over, avourneen," said his mother, drying her eyes with the corner of her check apron: "come over, acushla machree, an' sit beside me: sure although we're sorry for you, Denis, it's proud our hearts are of you, an' good right we have, a sullish! Come over, an let me be near you as long as I can, any way."
"Sure you know he can't; isn't he weedin' that bit of blanther in Crackton's park, an' afther that sure he has to cut scraws on the Pirl-hill for the new barn." "Well, I'll help him if he helps me; isn't that fair? Let us join." "Hut, get out o' that, avourneen; go yourself; do what you're bid, Art." "Is it by myself? murdher alive, father, don't ax me; I'll give him my new Cammon if he comes."
"Why, then, of coorse you'll have something to ait, poor man, and while you're eatin' it I'll fetch in a good bunch of straw, and make a comfortable shake-down for you." "God mark you to grace, avourneen!" She then furnished him with plenty of oaten bread and mixed milk, and while he was helping himself she brought in a large launch of straw, which she shook out and settled for him.
How do you know it was for you it was intended? You're not the only lady in the coach, avourneen." "And you're not the only gintleman in the coach, Jemmy Doran," replied Alley, indignantly. "I know you well, man alive and you picked up your politeness from your cattle, I suppose." "A better chance of getting it from them than from you," replied, the hasty grazier.
And you, Atty, avourneen, jist go out with him, and hould the candle while he's doin' it: be quick now, and I'll give you glasses a-piece when you come in." "Let them put him up quickly; but I say, you Caliban," added the stranger, addressing Smith, "don't be rash about him except you can bear fire and brimstone; get him, at all events, a good feed of oats.
Where's Honor, from me? she'll be glad, whin whin she hears it, and my son, Connor, will too but he's, he's where is Connor? bring me, bring me to Connor. Ah, avourneen, Honor's heart's breaking for him 't any rate, the mother's heart the mother's heart she's laid low wid an achin', sorrowful head for her boy." "Father, for God's sake, will you try and rest a little?
"But, avourneen machree," said her mother, "I would rather see you cryin' fifty times over, than smilin' the way you do." "Mother," said she, "my heart is sore my heart is sore." "It is, ahagur machree; and your hand is tremblin' so much that you can't bring the tay cup to your mouth; but, then, don't smile so sorrowfully, anein machree."
"Och! och! asthore, asthore! you're lyin' there an', oh, Ellish, avourneen, could you think that I I would spare money trash to bring you to glory wid the angels o' heaven! No, no, Father dear. It's good, an' kind, an' thoughtful of you to put it into my head; but I didn't intind to neglect or forget it. Oh, how will I live wantin' her, Father?
An' what is still more, he could, by shuttin' your eyes, in the same way prove black to be white, an' white black, jist as asy." "Surely myself doesn't doubt it. I suppose, by shuttin' my eyes, the same lad could prove anything to me." "But, Dinny, avourneen, you didn't prove Phadrick to be an ass yit. Will you do that by histhory, too, Dinny, or by the norrations of Illocution?"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking