Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 4, 2025
"It is amazing to me how a decent, respectable little woman like you can not only tell lies, but boast of it!" "Ah ha! I'm the same owld three and fourpince, an' will be till I die!" triumphed Mrs. Twomey, with another screech of laughter, removing her tiny person, her milk-pail, and her stool from under the cow.
Twomey, instant in defence of her sex, "isn't it to plase the min that's follyin' them for the news! Yis! An' they too big fools to hear it for theirselves!" John Brien, somewhat stupefied by this home thrust, made no reply, but smote the donkey heavily, provoking it to a jog that temporarily jolted conversation to death. At the next incline, however, Mrs. Twomey took up her parable again.
There was an instant of pause, and Frederica breathed the words "'Dicky' shirt-fronts!" to her bewildered cousin. "Himself and the Big Docthor walking the streets of Cluhir like two paycocks!" went on Mrs. Twomey with ever-increasing speed and fury. "Ha! Ha! Didn't I meet him back in Pribawn ere yistherday. 'How great you are in yourself! says I to him.
I'll be talking French to you, Mrs. Twomey, when I come back!" Mrs. Twomey uttered a screech of well-simulated horror. "For God's sake, child, do not!" she exclaimed; "didn't I know one o' thim in Boyshton, a docther he was, and a German. He had as many slishes and sloshes as'd fill a book! Sure I thought I'd lose me life thrying could I make off at all what he said to me!"
She was an incalculable force, with a predisposition towards novelty, and novelty, especially if founded on theory, is abhorrent to such as old Johnny Galvin the steward, or Peter Flood the gardener, or, stiffest in her own conceit of all, Mrs. Twomey of the dairy.
It may not have been this unfortunate young man's fault in the least " "'Tisn't that I'm crying for at all," sobbed Mrs. Twomey, a deplorable little figure, her head bent down, while she wiped violently and alternately her nose and her eyes in her sacking apron. "About what? said Dick, who was being bored. "About your Honour!" returned Mrs. Twomey, in a sort of roar.
"Oh, that poor little fellow?" said Dick, laughing, but with a touch of discomposure; "I didn't put him there. What's the matter with him, any how? Why, he hasn't been at the job three months! Give the man time, Mary, give him time! I'll engage you'll all be in love with him by this time next year!" Mrs. Twomey glanced at Miss Coppinger, and replied with decorous piety: "God grant it!"
"Well, please God, the pair of us'll knock out a spell yet!" responded Mrs. Twomey, cheerfully; "for as little as I am, the fly itself wouldn't like to die!" John Brien did not question this assertion. "The 'fluenzy is very raging these times," he remarked. "'Tis a nassty, dirty disease altogether, God help us!" said Mrs. Twomey, with feeling. "It is, and very numerous," replied John Brien.
He took an angry pull at his cigarette, glaring at the unoffending Barty. "''Tisn't the man I respects, 'tis the office! That's what Mrs. Twomey said, when I was chaffing her for dragging gravel up from the river to put in front of her house, because the priest, whom she loathes, was going to have a 'station' there!"
Twomey, milking ceaselessly, slewed her head a little and looked at her employer out of the corner of an eye as bright and as cunning as a hen's, and said: "As rich as your Honour is, you couldn't put a penny into the mouth of every man that's sayin' it!" "I'm surprised at you, Mary," said Frederica, indignantly, "You ought to have more sense than to repeat such rubbish!" To this reproach, Mrs.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking