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"Yis, the whole kit an' boodle of 'em is gone, an' the purty man wid 'em." "Hallelujer!" roared Jim. "Yis, and be gorry he's got me hundred dollars," said Mike. "What did ye gi'en it to 'im for, Mike? I didn't take ye for a fool." "Well, ye see, I wint in for ile, like the rist of 'em. Och! ye shud 'ave seen the owld feller talk! 'Mike, says he, 'ye can't afford to lose this, says he.
"Now, you don't tell me!" "Yes, and the only man I ever loved died died a week before the day we had set." "It must have purty near finished ye off." "Yes, I should have been glad to die myself." "Well, now, Miss Butterworth, if ye s'pose that Jim Fenton wouldn't bring that man to life if he could, and go to your weddin' singin' hallelujer, you must think he's meaner nor a rat.
He jest run till the blood leaked out and he gi'n it up. Now, boys, you set here, and sing hallelujer till we bring 'im in." The nose of the little craft was run against the bank, and Mr. Balfour, seizing the torch, sprang on shore, and Jim followed him into the woods.
There's a place where the two ruffs come together that wants somethin', an' it seems to me it's a cupalo somethin' to stan' up over the whole thing, and say to them as comes, 'Hallelujer! We've done a good deal for house-keepin', now let's do somethin' for glory. It's jest like a ribbon on a bonnet, or a blow on a potato-vine. It sets it off, an' makes a kind o' Fourth o' July for it.
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