following terms--the
farmer himself, by the way, being but the shadow of his worthy partner
in life--
Wife--"Now, good people, you're takin' the world on your heads--"
Farmer--"Ay, good people, you're takin' the world on your heads--"
Wife--"Hould your tongue, Brian, an' suck your dhudeen. It's me that's
spakin' to them, so none of your palaver, if you plase, till I'm done,
an' then you may prache till Tib's Eve, an' that's neither before
Christmas nor afther it."
Farmer--"Sure I'm sayin' nothin', Elveen, barrin' houldin' my tongue, a
shuchar" (* my sugar).
Wife--"Your takin' the world on yez, an' God knows 'tis a heavy load to
carry, poor crathurs."
Farmer--"A heavy load, poor crathurs! God he knows it's that."
Wife--"Brian! _Gluntho ma?_--did you hear me? You'll be puttin' in your
gab, an' me spakin'? How-an-iver, as I was sayin', our house was the
first ye came to, an' they say there's a great blessin' to thim that
gives, the first charity to a poor man or woman settin' out to look for
their bit."
Farmer--"Throgs, ay! Whin they set out; to look for their bit."
Wife--"By the crass, Brian, you'd vex a saint. What have you to say in
it, you _pittiogue_?* Hould your whisht now, an' suck your dhudeen, I
say; sure I allow you a quarther o' tobaccy a week, an' what right have
you to be puttin' in your gosther when other people's spakin'?"
* Untranslatable--but means a womanly man a poor,
effeminate creature.
Farmer--"Go an."
Wife--"So, you see, the long an' the short of it is that whenever you
happen to be in this side of the counthry, always come to us. You know
the ould sayin'--when the poor man comes he brings a blessin', an' when
he goes he carries away a curse. You have as much, meal as will last yez
a day or two; an' God he sees you're heartily welcome to all ye got?"
Farmer--"God he sees you're heartily welcome--"
Wife--"_Chorp an diouol_, Brian, hould your tongue, Or I'll turn you out
o' the kitchen. One can't hear their own ears for you, you poor squakin'
dhrone. By the crass, I'll--eh? Will you whisht, now?"
Farmer--"Go an. Amn't I dhrawin' my pipe?"
Wife--"Well dhraw it; but don't dhraw me down upon you, barrin--. Do you
hear me? an' the sthrange people to the fore, too! Well, the Lord be wid
yez, an' bless yez! But afore yez go, jist lave your blessin' wid us;
for it's a good thing to have the blessin' of the poor?"
"The Lord bless you, an yours!" said Owen, ferve
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