Handy Andy: A Tale of Irish Life. Volume 1Lover, Samuel
General
Handy Andy: A Tale of Irish Life. Volume 1
Lover, Samuel
Ireland -- Fiction
"Oh! but the first to me," said Tom.
"Ah! yis, Tom, I was; but then, you know, I couldn't refuse the stranger
from Dublin, and the English captain that will be there by-and-by; he's
a nice man, too, and long life to him, wouldn't fire on the people the
other day; I vow to the Virgin, all the women in the room ought to kiss
him when he comes in. Ah, doctor! there you are; there's Mrs. Gubbins in
the corner dying to have a chat with you; go over to her. Who's that
_taazing_ the piano there? Ah! James Reddy, it's _you_, I see. I hope
it's in tune; 't is only four months since the tuner was here. I hope
you've a new song for us, James. The tuner is so scarce, Mrs. Riley, in
the country--not like Dublin; but we poor country people, you know, must
put up with what we can get; not like you citizens, who has lashings of
luxuries as easy as peas." Then, in a confidential whisper, she said, "I
hope your daughter has practised the new piece well to-day, for I
couldn't be looking after her, you know, to-day, being in such a bustle
with my party; I was just like a dog in a fair, in and out everywhere;
but I _hope_ she's _perfect_ in the piece;" then, still more
confidentially, she added, "for _he's_ here--ah! I _wish it was_, Mrs.
Riley;" then, with a nod and a wink, off she rattled through the room
with a word for everybody.
The Mrs. Riley, to whom she was so confidential, was a friend from
Dublin, an atrociously vulgar woman, with a more vulgar daughter, who
were on a visit with Mrs. Flanagan. The widow and the mother thought
Murtough Murphy would be a good speculation for the daughter to "cock
her cap at" (to use their own phrase), and with this view the visit to
the country was projected. But matters did not prosper; Murphy was not
much of a marrying man; and if ever he might be caught in the toils of
Hymen, some frank, joyous, unaffected, dashing girl would have been the
only one likely to serve a writ on the jovial attorney's heart. Now,
Miss Riley was, to use Murtough Murphy's own phrase, "a batch of brass
and a stack of affectation," and the airs she attempted to play off on
the country folk (Murphy in particular) only made her an object for his
mischievous merriment; as an example, we may as well touch on one
little incident _en passant_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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