Three Courses and a Dessert: Comprising Three Sets of Tales, West Country, Irish, and Legal; and a MelangeClarke, William
General
Three Courses and a Dessert: Comprising Three Sets of Tales, West Country, Irish, and Legal; and a Melange
Clarke, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Legal stories, English; West Country (England) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“'Just,' says I; 'come St. Breedien's day; for it was the very week
Jimmy Gorman was drowned, so it was: his wife married Tim Carroll, tin
months after his wake,--for we waked Jimmy, though he wasn't at home,
and drank long life to our absent friend, in the pitcher o' pothien he
left in the cupboard,--so we did:--and she has now three children, by
Tim; and Maurien, the little one, is two months ould, barring a week, or
thereaway; and three nines is twinty-siven, and tin is tin more,--that's
thirty-siven, and three months betuxt and betune each o' the children,
makes nine more, that's forty-six: thin there's Maurien, she's
two months ould, as I said; so that, taking them together, there's
forty-eight months, one up or one down, and that many months is four
years:--so that, by the rules of multiplication and population, Jimmy's
dead four years--don't you see?'
“'Arrah! don't be preaching,' says he; 'sure, meeself knew Jimmy well.'
“'Ah! and is it yourself?' says I; 'and was he on visiting terms wid
ye?'
“'I knew him better than ever you did in your life, Mick,' says he.
“'Not a bit of it,' says I; 'did you ever spend your money wid him, like
meeself, at the sheebeen-house?--or at the pattarn there above, with the
penny-whiff woman? Did you ever once trate him to a glass o' whiskey,
sir?' says I;--'not yourself, in starch.'
“'Mick,' says he, 'Jimmy and I lay in one bed for seven months.'
“'In one bed!'
“'Yes.'
“'In a bed of oysthers, may be!'
“'It was,' says he.
“'Oh! thin, well and good, sir,' says I; 'but what has Jimmy to do with
the mermaid?'
“'Mick,' says he, 'the mermaid yourself saw below in the bay was him.'
“'Is it Jim?--And now I recollect--what's as true as that my daddy
Jack's a corpse,--the mermaid, sure enough, had a carrotty pole, and two
whiskers, and a big jacket, to say nothing of the bradien, though they
wouldn't believe me,--so they wouldn't; but betuxt ourselves, sir, by
this pipe in my fist, she was dacently clothed as meeself, barring the
breeches. Oh! thin, divil a saw saw I of breeches about her; and her
legs,--sure, and wasn't her legs a fish? and didn't meeself say so?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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