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ELL, why, long ago in the barony of Imokilly, in the county of Cork, by the roadside at the foot of Wathergrass-hill, there lived an owld schamer ov a man, in a bit ov a farm, wid a turf bog a one side, an' a garden ov pratees convanient. All the childther he had in the worl' was one girl, a daughtheran’ 'tis she was the fine, clevir colleen, tidy an' purty, as you'd wish to be afther lookin' at, an' a good knitter, an’spinner, an’ every thing that 'ed be wantin' to her to be, why she was. Well, one day as the owld cobbeen, her father, was standin' at the treshould ov the doore, what ’ed he see but a ha'f careless soort ov a fellow comin' up to him wid his grate-coat hangin' to his shouldthers, an' his brogues clippin' to his heels !

“ God save ye !" says the strange boy; “God save ye kindly!” says the owld man, inside the doore. “I'm this way lookin' for a place,” says

“ the begaun beg*; “would ye be afther hirein' a servant ?” says he.

he. Och! no!” says the owld fello', shakin' his head, “ I've no call for a servant;" and thin, as if the secund thought cum to him, “What wages are ye askin'?” says he. “Faith! whatevir

” ’ed be plazing to yourself,” says the poor boy, no ways partick’lar, by reason he was so bad off. “What work are ye able for ?” says the other. « Wisha! I can dig and reap an’ tach,” says the boy, “an' be handy for other things about the house, if it ’ed be wantin' for me.” “See that now—’pon my word ! I'll engage ?tis you’r the clevir boy enough,” says the

' owld schamer, puttin' out a bandlet ov his tongue behind his back; “but I don't want a boy at all, at all,” says he, “ only as I likes the look ov ye, I'll



Simple boy.

of A measure so called.


tell ye what I'll be afther doing wid ye,”—wid that the boy looks up at him like a young crow wid his mouth open—“ I've a nice little piece ov a girl widin' here,” says the big owld rogue,"only she's too young

“ to marry yet, the crathur; but if you'll wait a mather ov three years, I'll give her to ye, an' faith I can tell ye she'll hav' no bad potion comin' to her.”

Well, why the boy was a poor, soft, gomalah of a fello', an' he redened up to the two ears, for what ’ed he see peeping out at him but the colleen herself, an' she ready to die wid the laugh she had—an' sure enough such another purty crathur ever he seen; an' « Gor! I will,” says he. “Very well,” says the owld father, puttin’a grin on himself, to think how fine an' aisy he got him (for sure he had no intintion ov the soort, only jist to make a fool ov him, as he seem'd sich a shrimallah mathaum* altogether).

Well an' good, he was the best poor fello' evir cum into a house; everything thriv'd with him better than another; an' before the ind ov the three years he had as fine a farm for the owld schamp as you'd see from this to Droghedy (ov the likes ov it); an’ 'tis he had the doing an' doctherin' of every thing,

, buying an' sellin'; I'll engage 'tis himself used to do it all; an' whin he'd be goin' to a fair, or a patthern, faith he'd hav' his saddle craikin' undther him, like a rale gintleman; an'a crown or more may be to spind by an' by, for all the worl’ as if he war the owld man's son; an' faith if it is the girl an' himself got very fond entirely ov one another; an’ between the business an’ the coortin' he didn't hear the three years goin' from him. At long last he says this way to the owld father, “ The three years are gone now," says he, “an’ 'tis time for me to think ov myself a mossa! You can't say any way but I did my juty by ye. So now, in God's name, giv' me the little girl as you promised me in the big'ning, an' let us settle the thing soon an’ suddint.” “Och, hone! is it to giv' my elligent daughter to the likes ov you, for a know nothing caubogue ?” says the owld monsthrous decaiver, screechin' out, an' puttin' a crane's neck on himself. “Do you think it is mad I am, or what ailes me? Don't mintion it,” says he, “ye Kerry goat! ye camel ! ye gipsy!” says he,

* Foolish fellow.

, the ha'f-starved gossoon that I tuck in afther skimble skambling about the counthry like a wild Ingin !” says he; an' wid that he fell a coughing, as if the life 'ed leave him wid the bare madness. “0! there's no harm done, at all evints,” says the poor boy, for all he was scalded to the heart. worl's wide,” says he; “so pay me my wages in the way; I 'ont be any longer a Kerry goat wid ye, an' let me go about my business.”

“ As for wages," says the owld man, settin' a grin on himself, “I never promised ye the like; an’ since you hav' been wid me,” says he, "did I ever hindther you ov doing what 'ed be plazing to yourself? an' often gav’ye a tinpenny, an' a crown, an' lint ye my own horse an'

66 The

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saddle, not to mintion the cortheroy shute, an' the illegant blue coat for Sunday; it would be fitther for ye,” says he, "to go to yer business, annat mind the likes. I can't say but what you’r a quiet honest boy, anyhow; but my daughter's young enough to marry yet a while ; wait another little spell an’ she's

for ye.”

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Well, the boy goes in with himself; but if it is he entermined in his own mind to match the owld rogue. So in a short time he says to him, says he, “ Since first I cum to you I never sot eyes on my own people; so wid ye’r lave,” says he, “ I've a great notion ov going for a couple ov days to see a relation of my mother's (may the heavens be her bed !) that's not a grate way off from us.” “Do, avick! in God's name,” says the owld man, • an' take the horse wid

ye an' my blessin'; but don't stay long.” “There's no

fear ov that,” says the boy, with a shly look at Kate.

We'll away wid him, 'til he came to a preist's house, that was a soort ov a relation to himself, an’ faith the preist was rejiced to see him for this reason, because he came so sildom, an'he axed him where he was, an' how the worl' used him; and wid that the boy up an' tould every thing that had happen'd to him, first an’ last, an' how the owld schamer of a man had dacaived him, wid his plaumaussa an’soft talk in regard ov his daughther—not forgetting the friendship that was betwixt them.

Keep up your spirits,” says the preist, “an' don't giv’ yerself any uneasiness about it,” says he ;


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