ts
drink.

"Ye must know that wance upon a time there wos a widdy as lived in a
small town in the county o' Clare, in Owld Ireland, an' oh! but that was
the place for drinkin' and fightin'. It wos there that I learned to use
me sippers; and it wos there, too, that I learned to give up drinkin',
for I comed for to see what a mighty dale o' harm it did to my poor
countrymen. The sexton o' the place was the only man as niver wint near
the grog-shop, and no wan iver seed him overtook with drink, but it was
a quare thing that no wan could rightly understand why he used to
_smell_ o' drink very bad sometimes. There wos a young widdy in that
town, o' the name o' Morgan, as kep' a cow, an' owned a small cabin, an'
a patch o' tater-ground about the size o' the starn sheets of our owld
long-boat. She wos a great deal run after, wos this widdy--not that the
young lads had an eye to the cow, or the cabin, or the tater-estate, by
no manes--but she wos greatly admired, she wos. I admired her meself,
and wint to see her pretty fraquent. Well, wan evenin' I wint to see
her, an' says I, `Mrs Morgan, did ye iver hear the bit song called the
Widdy Machree?' `Sure I niver did,' says she. `Would ye like to hear
it, darlint?' says I. So she says she would, an' I gave it to her right
off; an' when I'd done, says I, `Now, Widdy Morgan, ochone! will ye take
_me_?' But she shook her head, and looked melancholy. `Ye ain't
a-goin' to take spasms?' said I, for I got frightened at her looks.
`No,' says she; `but there's a sacret about me; an' I like ye too well,
Phil, to decaive ye; if ye only know'd the sacret, ye wouldn't have me
at any price.'

"`Wouldn't I?' says I; `try me, cushla, and see av I won't.'

"`Phil Briant,' says she, awful solemn like, `I'm haunted.'

"`Haunted!' says I; `'av coorse ye are, bliss yer purty face; don't I
know that ivery boy in the parish is after ye?'

"`It's not that I mane. It's a ghost as haunts me. It haunts me cabin,
and me cow, and me tater-estate; an' it drinks.'

"`Now, darlint,' says I, `everybody knows yer aisy frightened about
ghosts. I don't belave in one meself, an' I don't mind 'em a farden
dip; but av all the ghosts in Ireland haunted ye, I'd niver give ye up.'

"`Will ye come an' see it this night?' says she.

"`Av coorse I will,' says I. An' that same night I wint to her cabin,
and she let me in, and put a candle on the table, an' hid me behind a
great clock, in a corner jist