Preston, Andy."
"Got through? For to-day, you mean?"
"No; I'm not going to work there again."
"Why not?"
"She complained of you, Andy."
"What did she say, mother?" asked our hero, listening with attention.
"She said you ought not to have struck Godfrey."
"Did you tell her he struck me first?"
"Yes, I did."
"And what did she say, thin?"
"She said that you ought not to have struck him back."
"And what did you say, mother?"
"I said my Andy wasn't the boy to stand still and let anybody beat
him."
"Good for you, mother! Bully for you! That's where you hit the nail on
the head. And what did the ould lady say then?"
"She told me I needn't come there again to work."
"I'm glad you're not goin', mother. I don't want you to work for the
likes of her. Let her do her own ironin', the ould spalpeen!"
In general, Andy's speech was tolerably clear of the brogue, but
whenever he became a little excited, as at present, it was more
marked. He was more angry at the slight to his mother than he would
have been at anything, however contemptuous, said to himself.
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