ye, barrin' the time the goat was lost, fur, sure, I lost me
confidince in ye. Ye failed me twict, wanst whin John McCune forgot me
whin he wint to Derry an' thin come back an' married that Mary O'Niel, the
impidint young shtrap, wid the hair av her as red as a glowin' coal; an'
wanst whin Misther McFinnigan walked aff from me an' married the Widdy
Bryan. Now ye must do yer besht, fur I'm thinkin' that, wid a little
industhry, I cud get Misther Dooley, the same that the town widdys is so
flusthrated wid.'

"'An' does he come to see ye, at all?' says Moll.

"'Faith he does, an' onless I'm mishtaken is mightily plazed wid his
comp'ny whin it's me that's in it,' says Miss Rooney.

"'An' phat widdys is in it,' says Moll, as she didn't know, bekase sorra a
step did the widdys go to her wid their love doin's, as they naded no
help, an' cud thransact thim affairs thimselves as long as their tongues
held out.

"So Miss Rooney towld her, an' Moll shuk her head. 'Jagers,' says she,
'I'm afeared yer goose is cooked if all thim widdys is afther him. I won't
thry,' says she.

"But Miss Rooney was as much in airnest as the widdys, troth, I'm
thinkin', more, bekase she was fairly aitchin' fur a husband now she'd got
her mind on it.

"'Sure, Moll,' says she, 'ye wouldn't desart me now an' it me last show.
Thim widdys can marry who they plaze, bad scran to 'em, but if Misther
Dooley gets from me, divil fly wid the husband I'll get at all, at all,'
beginnin' to cry.

"So, afther a dale av palatherin', Moll consinted to thry, bein' it was
the third time Miss Rooney had been to her, besides, she wanted to save
her charackther for a knowledgeable woman. So she aggrade to do her best,
an' gev her a little bag to carry wid 'erbs in it, an' writ some words on
two bits av paper an' the same in Latin. It was an awful charm, no more do
I remimber it, fur it was niver towld me, nor to anny wan else, fur it was
too dreadful to say axceptin' in Latin an' in a whisper fur fear the avil
sper'ts 'ud hear it, that don't undhershtand thim dape langwidges.

"'Now, darlint,' says owld Moll, a-givin' her wan, 'take you this charm
an' kape it on you an' the bag besides, an' ye must manage so as this
other paper 'ull be on Misther Dooley, an' if it fails an' he don't marry
ye I'll give ye back yer money an' charge ye nothing at all,' says she.

"So Miss Rooney tuk the charms an' paid Owld Moll one pound five, an' was
to give her fifteen shillins mo