hat the Widdy Mulligan did, fur she'd two childher, a boy an' a gurrul,
that were growin' up, an' the shop wasn't payin' well.

"There was another widdy in it, the Widdy McMurthry, that aftherwards
married a sargeant av the polis, an' lives in Limerick. She was wan o'
thim frishky widdys that shtruts an' wears fine close an' puts on more
airs than a paycock. She was a fine-lookin' woman thim times, an' had
money in plinty that she got be marryin' McMurthry, that was owld enough
to be a father to her an' died o' dhrinkin' too much whishkey at first,
an' thin too much sulphur-wather at Lisdoon Varna to set him right agin.
She was always ready wid an answer to ye, fur it was quick witted she was,
wid slathers o' talk that didn't mane annything, an' a giggle that she
didn't nade to hunt fur whin she wanted it to make a show wid. An' she'd a
dawther that was a fine child, about siventeen, a good dale like her
mother.

"Now, Misther Dooley had a kind heart in his body fur wimmin in gineral,
an' as he liked a bit o' chaff wid thim on all occashuns, he wasn't long
in gettin' acquainted wid all the wimmin o' the parish, an' was well liked
be thim, an', be the same token, wasn't be the men, fur men, be nacher,
doesn't like a woman's man anny more than wimmin like a men's woman. But,
afther a bit, he begun to centher himself on the three widdys, an' sorra
the day' ud go by whin he come to town but phat he'd give wan or another
o' thim a pace av his comp'ny that was very plazin' to thim. Bedad, he
done that same very well, for he made a round av it for to kape thim in
suspince. He'd set in the ale room o' the Shamrock an hour in the
afthernoon an' chat wid the Widdy Mulligan as she was sarvin' the dhrink,
an' shtop in the Widdy O'Donnell's shop as he was goin' by, to get a
thrifle or a bit av shwates an' give to her childher beways av a
complimint, an' thin go to Missis McMurthry's to tay, an' so got on well
wid thim all. An' it's me belafe he'd be doin' that same to this blessed
day only that the widdys begun to be pressin' as not likin' fur to wait
anny longer. Fur, mind ye, a widdy's not like a young wan that'll wait fur
ye to spake, an' if ye don't do it, 'ull go on foriver, or till she gets
tired av waitin' an' takes some wan else that does spake, widout sayin' a
word to ye at all; but the widdy 'ull be hintin' an' hintin', an' her
hints 'ull be as shtrong as a donkey's kick, so that the head o' ye has to
be harder than a pavi