"Couldn't you have tould him what we agreed upon goin' up," observed
Ellish; "but instead o' that, to begin an' tell the gintlemen so many
lies about your bein' dhrunk, an' this bein' your birth-day, an' the
day we wor marrid, an',----Musha, sich quare stories to come into your
head?"
"Why," said Peter, "what harm's in all that, whin he didn't _find me
out?_"
"But why the sarra did you go to say that I was in the custom o' tellin'
lies?"
"Faix, bekase I thought you wor goin' to let out all, an' I thought
it best to have the first word o' you. What else?--but sure I brought
myself off bravely."
"Well, well, a hudh; don't be invintin' sich things another time, or
you'll bring yourself into a scrape, some way or other."
"Faix, an' you needn't spake, Ellish; you can let out a nate bounce
yourself, whin it's to sarve you. Come now, don't run away wid the
story!"
"Well, if I do, it's in the way o' my business; whin I'm batin' them
down in the price o' what I'm buyin', or gettin' thim to bid up for any
thing I'm sellin': besides, it's to advance ourselves in the world that
I do it, abouchal."
"Go an, go an; faix, you're like the new moon, sharp at both corners:
but what matther, you beauty, we've secured the farm, at any rate, an',
by this an' by that, I'll show you tip-top farmin' an it.
Pages:
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126