"
"I'm afeard, sir," said Peter, "if it goes to a clane bargain atween
yez, that Ellish will make you bid up for Dan. Be sharp; sir, or you'll
have no chance; faix, you won't."
"But, Mrs. Connell;" replied the priest, "before I spake up, consider
her accomplishments. I'll undertake to say, that the best bred girl in
Dublin cannot perform music in such style, or on such an instrument as
the one she uses. Let us contemplate Dan and her after marriage, in an
elegant house, and full business, the dinner over, and they gone up to
the drawing-room. Think how agreeable and graceful it would be for Mrs.
Daniel O'Connell to repair to the sofa, among a few respectable friends,
and, taking up her bagpipes, set her elbow a-going, until the drone
gives two or three broken groans, and the chanter a squeak or two, like
a child in the cholic, or a cat that you had trampled on by accident.
Then comes the real ould Irish music, that warms the heart. Dan
looks upon her graceful position, until the tears of love, taste, and
admiration are coming down his cheeks. By and by, the toe of him moves:
here another foot is going; and, in no time, there is a hearty dance,
with a light heart and a good conscience. You or I, perhaps, drop in to
see them, and, of course, we partake of the enjoyment.
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