O'Sullivan, an' lived on the
highway betune Crusheen an' Ennis, an' they do say that whin he was a lad,
there wasn't a finer to be seen in the County; a tall, shtrappin' young
felly wid an eye like a bay'net, an' a fisht like a shmith, an' the fut
an' leg av him 'ud turn the hearts o' half the wimmin in the parish. An'
they was all afther him, like they always do be whin a man is good
lookin', sure I've had a little o' that same exparience mesilf. Ye needn't
shmile. I know me head has no more hair on it than an egg, an' I think me
last tooth 'ull come out tomorrer, bad cess to the day, but they do say
that forty years ago, I cud have me pick av the gurruls, an' mebbe they're
mishtaken an' mebbe not. But I was sayin', the gurruls were afther Paddy
like rats afther chaze, an' sorra a wan o' thim but whin she spied him on
the road, 'ud shlip behind the hedge to shmooth her locks a bit an' set
the shawl shtraight on her head. An' whin there was a bit av a dance,
niver a boy 'ud get a chance till Paddy made his chice to dance wid, an'
sorra a good word the rest o' the gurruls 'ud give that same. Och, the
tongues that wimmin have! Sure they're sharper nor a draggin's tooth.
Faith, I know that well too, for I married two o' them an' larned a deal
too afther doin' it, an' axin' yer pardon, it's my belafe that if min
knewn as much before marryin' as afther, bedad, the owld maid population
'ud be greatly incrased.

"Howandiver, afther a bit, Paddy left carin' for thim all, that, in my
consate, is a moighty safe way, and begun to look afther wan. Her name was
Nora O'Moore, an' she was as clever a gurrul as 'ud be found bechuxt
Limerick an' Galway. She was kind o' resarved like, wid a face as pale as
a shroud, an' hair as black as a crow, an' eyes that looked at ye an'
never seen ye. No more did she talk much, an' whin Paddy 'ud be sayin' his
fine spaches, she'd listen wid her eyes cast down, an' whin she'd had
enough av his palaver, she'd jist look at him, an' somehow Paddy felt that
his p'liteness wasn't the thing to work wid. He cudn't undhershtand her,
an' bedad, many's the man that's caught be not undhershtandin' thim.
There's rivers that's quiet on top bekase they're deep, an' more that's
quiet bekase they're not deep enough to make a ripple, but phat's the
differ if ye can't sound thim, an' whin a woman's quiet, begorra, it's not
aisy to say if she's deep or shallow. But Nora was a deep wan, an' as good
as iver drew a breath.