"’Sure, Moll,’ says she, ’ye wouldn’t desart me now an’ it me last show. Thim widdys can marry who they plaze, bad scran to ’em, but if Misther Dooley gets from me, divil fly wid the husband I’ll get at all, at all,’ beginnin’ to cry. "So, afther a dale av palatherin’, Moll consinted to thry, bein’ it was the third time Miss Rooney had been to her, besides, she wanted to save her charackther for a knowledgeable woman. So she aggrade to do her best, an’ gev her a little bag to carry wid ’erbs in it, an’ writ some words on two bits av paper an’ the same in Latin. It was an awful charm, no more do I remimber it, fur it was niver towld me, nor to anny wan else, fur it was too dreadful to say axceptin’ in Latin an’ in a whisper fur fear the avil sper’ts ’ud hear it, that don’t undhershtand thim dape langwidges. "’Now, darlint,’ says owld Moll, a-givin’ her wan, ’take you this charm an’ kape it on you an’ the bag besides, an’ ye must manage so as this other paper ’ull be on Misther Dooley, an’ if it fails an’ he don’t marry ye I’ll give ye back yer money an’ charge ye nothing at all,’ says she. "So Miss Rooney tuk the charms an’ paid Owld Moll one pound five, an’ was to give her fifteen shillins more afther she was married to Dooley. "She wint home, bothered entirely how she’d get the charm on Dooley, an’ the avenin’ come, an’ he wid it, an’ shtill she didn’t know. So he set an’ talked an’ talked, an’ by an’ by he dhrunk up the rest av the whiskey an’ wather in his glass an’ got up to go. "’Why, Misther Dooley,’ says she, bein’ all at wanst shtruck be an idee. ’Was iver the like seen av yer coat?’ says she. ’Sure it’s tore in the back. Sit you down agin wan minnit an’ I’ll mend it afore ye can light yer pipe. Take it aff,’ says she. "’Axqueeze me,’ says Dooley. ’I may be a bigger fool than I look, or I may look a bigger fool than I am, but I know enough to kape the coat on me back whin I’m wid a lady,’ says he. "’Then take a sate an’ I’ll sow it on ye,’ says she to him agin, so he set down afore the fire, an’ she, wid a pair av shizzors an’ a nadle, wint behind him an’ at the coat. ’Twas a sharp thrick av her, bekase she took the shizzors, an’ whin she was lettin’ on to cut aff the t’reads that she said were hangin’, she ripped the collar, an’ shlipped in the bit o’ paper, an’ sowed it up as nate as a samesthress in less than no time. "’It’s much beholden to ye I am,’ says Dooley, risin’ wid his pipe lit. ’An’ it’s a happy man I’d be if I’d a young woman av yer size to do the like to me ivery day.’ "’Glory be to God,’ says Miss Rooney to herself, fur she thought the charm was beginnin’ to work. But she says to him, ’Oh, it’s talkin’ ye are. A fine man like you can marry who he plazes.’