Lewisburg chronicle. [volume] (Lewisburg, Pa.) 1850-1859, 1853-12-30

his beard wOr OFT.
Barber, frizzle my head, seq Tim.
An, widout any ghosther at all, the
spry little man pokes a long iron thing
into the fire.
Oh, murther! says Tim, what's that?
Trims the curlin' -tongs, sez the barber.
! Oh, seq the cunnin' Tim, turnin' up his
nose, thim's the ould time fashion. May
be ye niver seen the frizzlin' Instrument
they use in furriu parts?
Musha, then, but that's thruc, anyhow,
sez the barber An on he wint, frizzlin'
first one side an thin the other, till by an
by Tins head wor all over corkscrews,
like haythen naygur's.
How will look seq Tim, goin' to a
glass. Aush! millia mur'hcr. Tis ut
me own face that see yondher?
| Deed bu: it is, seq the barber.
Oh, wirrasrhrne! seq Tim, wringin' his
hauds: what'll do? 'Tis ruinashncd
am, clane out an in,hrcly. I'll be mis-
tahin myself for stranger!
i Yez, thin, sez the little man, there's no
denyin' but yees wonderfully improved in
apparence.
Botherashin . seq Tim, but how will l
raycognize meself, I'd like to know?
/ Sure, but he had the tbroubled look
whin he mounted his horse but, by the
time he got to Carrigathroid, his spirits
came back agin, an he fasthcns the bas,c
to the swingin' boush of three, an steps
up to the durc an knocks as boull as
Joolyus Saizcr:
Halo, house whoop!
What's the ma;ther, my good man sez
a sarvant, answerin' the dure
Ma,ther sez Tim, plcnty's the matther.
Here's a letter for Misthcr O'Brien, wild
the RESPECTS of the owner.
Yer name, sir, if ye place, sez the man.
Tell him Misther Sullivan sint it, ,sezTim.
Oh, seq the man, maxim low bow
oblecgc me by walkin' in; ye'rc EXPECTED
An wild that he marches on afure, Tim
followin' afther, an filings open the dure
of a grand room all blazin' wild light, an
sings out, "Misther Sullivan :"
ooh, mur,her. sez Tim to hisself, tits
changed am by that frizzln' barbarian,
All, my young frind, scz Misthcr o Bri-
en-, :akin' him by the hand, It's plased l
am to see ye the day! Let me presint ye
to my daugbther-Norah, mavourneen, this
is Mis,her Maurice Sullivan.
Och, the beauty of the wureld sez Tim,
quite. fush.hrated-call me Delaney, av
ye PLACE.
All, l understand, SCI the ould squi-
reen, wild smile-the Dclaneys is yer
relashns.
Troth, an indade they are, SEE Tim.
Thim's good blood, does be thinkin',
sez the squireen.
Sorra betther to be found anywhere, sez
Tim.
l beg yer pardon, It's standin' ye are the
while, sez the ould jintleman will ye take
a safe on the o.timin?
Sure, 'tisu't the grand Turkey ye mane?
sez Tim, getting frikened.
Oh no, sez the ould jintleman, It's the
fine fahool stool standin' fornenst ye.
Ayeh. sez Tim, but the ould name S
the betther.
Maybe so, seq the squircen, putin on
his speckticklcs, an starin' ut Tim as if he
wor wild baste. An' sorry ] am to tell
yc that purity Miss Norah likewise hadn't
no betthcr manners, but set starin' too at
the bouchal wild her great black eyes.
What's the matther? sez Tim, as red as
billed lobster; isn't it all right!
How will know ? sez the sqairecn.
Och !! och sez Tim, why did make a
"behay" of myself? Ble>sin's on yer
darlin' face. SEE he, turnin' to Miss No
rah, an may goodness purtect ye. an the
daises grow up undhcr yer purity fee, . an
may all the fairies in ireland bring good
luck to ye, an dale of it But oh, be
pl'ased to take pity on a poor boy as is
quite dumbfounder'd at yer b'utyful coun-
tenance, and burnt into ashes by the blaze
from yer eyes! An now do mt be af,hcr
cologuing wild the ould man that a way,
an | KEEP in the dark, like Shaun Dooley,
the blind fiddler.
(inladc an in trotl it's very misthari-
ous, says Miss Norah, whisperin' to her
fadhcr 'Tisn't the FIRST hap'orth Of man
ners the cray,her has. Sure l am III not
like him, anyway
(Lavc him to me, SCI the ould man, may
be he's betthcr nor he seems Get ye
gone, acushla, an ordher Michael to bring
up pitcher of Senmin' hot po:hcep; that's
the raal stuff to bring out mans char
ac,her.) Misther Sullivan, SEE he, as the
daughther disapp' 'ared-
Delany, av ye phase, sez Tim.
l beg yer pardin, Misther Delaney Sui
livan. May l be so bould, an m'anin' no
ofipce. as to be AKIN We what makes ye