The Emigrants Of Ahadarra. William Carleton

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СКАЧАТЬ Well, that same's a loss.”

      “Honest woman,” said M'Mahon, addressing Kate Hogan, “maybe you'd give me a draw o' the pipe?”

      “Maybe so,” she replied; “an' why wouldn't I? Shough! that is here!”

      “Long life to you, Katy. Well,” proceeded the worthy man, “if it was a poor person that wanted them an' that took them from hardship, why God forgive them as heartily as I do: but if they wor stole by a thief, for thievin's sake, I hope I'll always be able to afford the loss of a pair betther than the thief will to do without them; although God mend his or her heart, whichever it was, in the mane time.”

      During this chat Bryan and Hanna Cavanagh were engaged in that good-humored badinage that is common to persons of their age and position.

      “I didn't see you at Mass last Sunday, Bryan?” said she, laughing; “an' that's the way you attend to your devotions. Upon my word you promise well!”

      “I seen you, then,” replied Bryan, “so it seems if I haven't betther eyes I have betther eyesight.”

      “Indeed I suppose,” she replied, “you see everything but what you go to see.”

      “Don't be too sure of that,” he replied, with an involuntary glance at Kathleen, who seemed to enjoy her sister's liveliness, as was evident from the sweet and complacent smile which beamed upon her features.

      “Indeed I suppose you're right,” she replied; “I suppose you go to say everything but your prayers.”

      “An' is it in conversation with Jemmy Kelly,” asked Bryan, jocularly, alluding to her supposed admirer, “that you perform your own devotions, Miss Hanna?”

      “Hanna, achora,” said the father, “I think you're playin' the second fiddle there—ha! ha! ha!”

      The laugh was now general against Hanna, who laughed as loudly, however, as any of them.

      “Throth, Kathleen,” she exclaimed, “you're not worth knot's o' straws or you'd help me against this fellow here; have you nothing,” she proceeded, addressing Bryan, and nodding towards her sister, “to say to her? Is everything to fall on my poor shoulders? Come, now,” with another nod in the same direction, “she desarves it for not assistin' me. Who does she say her devotions with?”

      “Hem—a—is it Kathleen you mane?” he inquired, with rather an embarrassed look.

      “Not at all,” she replied ironically, “but my mother there—ha! ha! ha! Come, now, we're waitin' for you.”

      “Come, now?” he repeated, purposely misunderstanding her—“oh, begad, that's a fair challenge;” and he accordingly rose to approach her with the felonious intent of getting a kiss; but Hanna started from her wheel and ran out of the house to avoid him.

      “Throth, you're a madcap, Hanna,” exclaimed her mother, placidly—“an antick crather, dear knows—her heart's in her mouth every minute of the day; an' if she gets through the world wid it always as light, poor girl, it'll be well for her.”

      “Kathleen, will you get me a towel or praskeen of some sort to wipe my face wid,” said her father, looking about for the article he wanted.

      “I left one,” she replied, “on the back of your chair—an' there it is, sure.”

      “Ay, achora, it's you that laves nothing undone that ought to be done; an' so it is here, sure enough.”

      “Why, then, Gerald,” asked Tom M'Mahon, “in the name o' wonder what makes you stick to the meal instead o' the soap when you're washin' yourself?”

      “Throth, an' I ever will, Tom, an' for a good raison—becaise it's best for the complexion.”

      The unconscious simplicity with which Cavanagh uttered this occasioned loud laughter, from which Kathleen herself was unable to refrain.

      “By the piper, Gerald,” said M'Mahon, “that's the best thing I h'ard this month o' Sundays. Why, it would be enough for one o' your daughters to talk about complexion. Maybe you paint too—ha! ha! ha!”

      Hanna now put in her head, and asked “what is the fun?” but immediately added, “Kathleen, here's a message for you.”

      “For me!” said Kathleen; “what is it?”

      “Here's Peety Dhu's daughter, an' she says she has something to say to you.”

      “An' so Rosha Burke,” said Mrs. Cavanagh, “has taken her to live wid them; I hope it'll turn out well for the poor thing.”

      “Will you come out, Kathleen,” said Hanna, again peeping in; “she mustn't tell it to anyone but yourself.”

      “If she doesn't she may keep it, then,” replied Kathleen. “Tell her I have no secrets,” she added, “nor I won't have any of her keeping.”

      “You must go in,” said Hanna, turning aside and addressing the girl—“you must go in an' spake to her in the house.”

      “She can tell us all about the robbery, anyway,” observed Mr. Cavanagh. “Come in, a-colleen—what are you afeard of?”

      “I have a word to say to her,” said the girl—“a message to deliver; but it must be to nobody but herself. Whisper,” she proceeded, approaching Kathleen, and about to address her.

      Kathleen immediately rose, and, looking on the messenger, said, “Who is it from, Nanny?”

      “I mustn't let them know,” replied the girl, looking at the rest.

      “Whatever it is, Or whoever it's from, you must spake it out then, Nanny,” continued Kathleen.

      “It's from Hycy Burke, then,” replied the girl; “he wants to know if you have any answer for him?”

      “Tell Hycy Burke,” replied Kathleen, “that I have no answer for him; an' that I'll thank him to send me no more messages.”

      “Hut tut! you foolish girl,” exclaimed her mother, rising up and approaching her daughter; “are you mad, Kathleen?”

      “What's come over you,” said the father, equally alarmed; “are you beside yourself, sure enough, to send Hycy Burke sich a message as that? Sit down, ma colleen, sit down, an' never mind her—don't think of bringin' him back sich a message. Why, then,” he added, “in the name o' mercy, Kathleen, what has come over you, to trate a respectable young man like. Hycy Burke in that style?”

      “Simply, father, because I don't wish to receive any messages at all from him.”

      “But your mother an' I is of a different opinion, Kathleen. We wish you to resave messages from him; an' you know you're bound both by the laws of God an' man to obey us an' be guided by us.”

      “I know I am, father,” she replied; “an' I hope I haven't been an undutiful child to either of you for so far.”

      “That's true, Kathleen—God sees it's truth itself.”

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