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Updated: June 23, 2025
"I understand you, Paddy, you shall have grog too." "Musha, the heavens shower blessin's an you, I pray the Virgin Mary and the twelve apostles, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, not forgettin' Saint Pathrick." "Thank you, Paddy; but keep your prayers for yourself, for you need them all to help you home again."
As Winnie strolled over the farm, enjoying the evening breeze, reflecting upon her good pastor's words, her attention was suddenly attracted toward the enclosure where the cows were being milked, by hearing the voice of Biddy, who, as she "stripped" the patient animal again, for the dozenth time, was very much engaged with Pat, whose round, smiling face, as he glanced at her from the opposite side of the creature, shone with delight; and as the white foam rose higher and higher in Biddy's pail, so did the warmth of her feelings get the better of her, and those tell-tale eyes of Winnie's danced with mischief, as she overheard the following conversation: "Ah, Pathrick dear, does ye think there is the laste sin in it?
By this time Irma was at the door, hiding herself a little, for she had still the morning apron on that in which she had been helping Mrs. Pathrick. But she was greatly delighted to see Boyd, who, if the truth must be told, made his best service like an Irishman and a gentleman for, as he said, "Even five-and-thirty years of Galloway had not wiped the sclate of his manners!"
Biddy, sure he'll be very angry, intirely." "Faith, and it's no longer ago than the day afther yesterday, that the misthress was saying if we confissed our sins with a right spirit, we should be afther being forgiven; and now, Pathrick, I'm thinking we 'll be afther getting married, and then there will be a plinty of time for confissing."
An' I remimber myself, though he's a dark, spare, yallow man at all times, yet he never looked half so fat an' rosy as he did the same Lent!" "Glory be to Heaven! Well, well it is sthrange the power they have! As for him, I'd as fee meet St. Pettier, or St. Pathrick himself, as him; for one can't but fear him, somehow." "Fear him!
Vandervelt, the finest man in New York wid a family that goes back to the first Dutchman that ever was, a little fellow that sat fishin' in the say the day St. Pathrick sailed for Ireland. Now Mr. Livingstone sez to Mrs.
"'Oh, says my father, 'I'm only a foolish, ignorant, poor man, says he. 'Listen to me now, Terence Neil, says he, 'I was always a good masther to Pathrick Neil, your grandfather, says he. "'Tis thrue for your honour, says my father. "'And, moreover, I think I was always a sober, riglar gintleman, says the squire.
Pathrick himself couldn't touch him with a shillaly." "And for why?" demanded several Irishmen, truculently, their ire aroused at the invidiousness of the allusion. "Because St. Pathrick, God love him, aint never been counted as ranking alongside of Christ, and this here Garge Washington seems to be of more importance than ayther of thim.
Pathrick, and tin days afther I saw my darlin' Dinnis buried in the salt say. He fell sick wid a faver, and all me prayers for his life could not save him; an' here I am, a lone widdy, in a shtrange land, without a penny in me pocket, nor a place to lay me head." Here the poor woman's grief choked her utterance, and, covering her face with her hands, she wept aloud.
"He bad man much bad," said the savage, who had received an account of him from his companion. "I promised Master Harvey not to shoot the villain, excipt it might be to save his life or me own; but I belave if I had the chance, I'd jist conveniently forgit me promise, and let me gun go off by accident. St. Pathrick! wouldn't I like to have a shindy wid the sn'akin, mean, skulkin' assassin!"
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