* This is a kind of hyperbole for selling a grout quantity. “Faith, an' I'll back you for the sweet words agin any woman in the three kingdoms, Ellish, you darlin'. But don't you know the proverb, 'sweet words butther no parsnips.'” “In throth, the same proverb's a lyin' one, and ever was; but it's not parsnips I'll butther wid 'em, you gommoch.” “Sowl, you butthered me wid 'em long enough, you deludher--devil a lie in it; but thin, as you say, sure enough, I was no parsnip--not so soft as that either, you phanix.” “No? Thin I seldom seen your beautiful head without thinkin' of a carrot, an' it's well known they're related--ha, ha, ha!--Behave, Pether--behave, I say--Pether, Pether--ha, ha, ha!--let me alone! Katty Hacket, take him away from me--ha, ha, ha!” “Will ever you, you shaver wid the tongue that you are? Will ever you, I say? Will ever you make delusion to my head again--eh?” “Oh, never, never--but let me go, an' me go full o' tickles! Oh, Pether, avourneen, don't, you'll hurt me, an' the way I'm in--quit, avillish!” “Bedad, if you don't let my head alone, I'll--will ever you?” “Never, never. There now--ha, ha, ha!--oh, but I'm as wake as wather wid what I laughed. Well now, Pether, didn't I manage bravely--didn't I?” “Wait till we see the profits first, Ellish--crockery's very tindher goods.” “Ay!--just wait, an'I'll engage I'll turn the penny. The family's risin' wid us.”-- “Very thrue,” replied Peter, giving a sly wink at the wife--“no doubt of it.” “--Kisin' wid us--I tell you to have sinse, Pether; an' it's our duty to have something for the crathurs when they grow up.” “Well, that's a thruth--sure I'm not sayin' against it.” “I know that; but what I say is, if we hould an, we may make money. Everything, for so far, has thruv wid us, God be praised for it. There's another thing in my mind, that I'll be tellin' you some o' these days.” “I believe, Ellish, you dhrame about makin' money.” “Well, an' I might do worse; when I'm dhramin' about it, I'm doin' no sin to any one. But, listen, you must keep the house to-morrow while I'm at the market. Won't you, Pether?” “An' who's to open the dhrain in the bottom below?” “That can be done the day afther. Won't you, abouchal?” “Ellish, you're a deludher, I tell you. Sweet words;--sowl, you'd smooth a furze bush wid sweet words. How-an-ever, I will keep the house to-morrow, till we see the great things you'll do wid your crockery.”