Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1884-06-27

lettin Paddy catch any right holt o thin
he could get no advantage O. thin at all
and at last he gev it up, and was goin' away,
whin lookin' behind him again, the sight Of
the illigant fine boots was too much for him,
and be turned back, determined to have the
boots anyhow, by fair means or foul and
I'm loath TO tell you how he got thim-for
indeed II was bad turn, and though 1t was
the only bad turn ever knew Paddy 10 be
guilty nv and you see it was this way he
pulled out big knife, and by the same TO-
ken, it was knife with fine buokhandle
and a murtherin' big blade, that an uncle o.
mine that was Il gardiner at the lords, made
Paddy O prsint av. Well he outs with his
knife, and what does he do, but he cut of the
legs av the corpse and, says he, 81 can take
aff the boots at my conveyance :" aud throth
1t was as l said before, bad turn.
Well, sir he picked up the legs under his
arm and at that minite the moon peerod out
from behind a cloud
"Oh is IL there you are 2" says he to the
mOon-for he was an impident chap-and
thin seein' that he made a mistake, and that
the moonlight desaved him, and that II wasn't
the airly dawn, as ho conceived, and bein'
frikon'd for fear himself might be cotched
and thratod like the poor corpse he was afth
or maltreatin', IL he was found walkin the
country at that timo--by gar he turned about
and walked back again to the cow-house, and
hidin' the corpse's legs in the sthraw, Paddy
wint to sleep agin.
But what do yon think! The divil a long
Paddy was there until tho sojers came in
airnest and, by the powers, they carried of
| Paddy-and faith II was only sarvin' him
right for what he done to tho poor corpse
Well whin the morning KEN my father
says to me go, Shamus, says he, ito the
she'd and bid poor Paddy come in, and take
share o. the breakfast, for l go bail he's ready
for it by this, anyhow"
Well, out 1 wint to tho cow-house, and
called out Paddy !" and sfther calm three
or four times, and getten' no answer, 1 wint in,
and callin' agin, and divil an answer got
still
BLOOD. an-agers :" says l, Paddy, where
are you at all, at all 2" and so castin my eyes
about the shed, sec two feet sticking out
from undher the hape O. sthraw.
'Musha thin" says 1, bad luck to you,
Paddy, but you're fond of q warm corner,
| and maybe you haven't made yourself snug
but I'll disturb your dhrames I'm thnkin'."
With that l laid hould of his heels (as l
thought, God help me), and given good
pull to waken him, as I intinded, away wint,
head over hoels, and my brains was almost
knocked agin the wall. Well, when recov-
cred myself, there was, an the broad o. my
back and the two stickin' out O. my hands,
like pair O. Husshian's horse -pistols-and
seen they were two mortal legs. My jew'l,
threw them down like a hot pratee, and
| jumpin' up, roared out militia murther.
"Oh, thin, you murtherin' villain, says
shaking my fist at the cow-"Oh, you un-
natural baste, says l, you've ate poor Pad
dy, you thievn' cannsble, you're worse than
neyger," says /, land bad luck to you, how
dainty you are, that nothin' i'd serve you for
your supper but tho best piper in Ireland.
Vfar ukla .anNt u1aNf Ill.
country say to such an unnatural murther
and you, lookin as innocent there as q lamb,
and eating your hay as quiet as if nothin
happened"
With that ran out, for throth didn't like
to be near her, and goin into the house.
tould them oil about it.
"Arrah, be aisy," says my father.
Bad luck to the lie 1 tell you, says 1.
SIS it ate Paddy p says they.
"Divil doubt OF it." says l.
'Are you sure Shamus 2" says my mother.
II wish l was as sure of heaven, says I.
''Bad luck to the bit she has left iv him but
his two legs"
'And do you tell me she ate the pipes, too ?"
says my father.
"Begor, believe 30" says l.
"Oh, the divil fly away wild her :" says he,
what q cruel taste she has for music"
'Arrah! !" says my mother, "dont be ours
ing the COW that gives the milk to the child
her."
'Yis, will, says my father, "why should
MT curse such an unnatural baste ?"
'You oughtn't to curse any livin' crather
that's under your roof" says my mother.
by my sowl, thin" says my father, "she
shan't be undher my roof any more for I'll |
sind her to the fair this mint, " says he, land |
sell her for whatever she'll bring. Go aft di- |
richly" says he, ''ShRmus, the mint you've |
hFnaEunalt har IN ha
fair"
"Troth, don't like to dhrive her." says 1. |
"Arrah, don't be making such a gummagh |
of yourself" says my father.
Faith, don't" says I.
well, like or no like, says he, ''you must |
dhrivo her"
Sure, father" says l, you could take
more care of her yourself"
That's mighty good, says ho ito keep IA |
dog and bark myself = and faith, rec'llect |
the sayin' from that hour-"let me have no |
more words about it, " says he, ''but be aT |
wild You"
So aG wint; and it's no lie I'm tellin' |
whin say it was sore Rgin my will l had |
anythin' whatever to do with such a villain |
of baste. But, howsomever, cut bravo |
long waffle, that 1 might dhrive the man |
ather of a thief as she was, without bein |
near her at all, at all. Well away VIC wint |
along the road, and mighty throng it wuz |
wild the boys and girls, and, in short, all sorts,
rich and poor, high and low, crowdin' to the |
fair.
God save you !" says one to me.
God save you kindly - says 1.
That's fine baste you're dhrivein', says |
he.
"Troth, she is" says l. Though God |
knows it wint agin my heart to say good |
word for the like of her
''Its to the fair you're goin', suppose" |
says he, with the baste." He was a snug |
lookin' farmer, ridin' purity, spirited little |
gray hack.
Faith thin, you're right enough" says I,
SITS to the fair Pm goin'."
"What do you expec' for her ?" says he.
Faith, thin, myself doesn't know" says |
/. And that was thrue enough, you see, be- |
kase l was bewildered like about the baste |
intirely.
That's quare way to be going to mar
ket," says he, land not to know what you
expeo' for your haste.
"Och," says I-not likin' to let him sus-
pict there was anything wrong with her |
''och, " says 1, in careless sort of way, "sure
no ono can tell what a baste'll bring, until |
they come to the fair, says /, land see what |
price is goin'n
Indeed, that's natural enough" says he. |
'But il you wor bid a fair price before you
come to the fair, sure you might as we'll take
it," says he.
"Oh, I've no objection in my life, says l.
''Well, thin, whatll you AK for her 2" says
he.
why, thin, wouldn't like to be onray-
sonable," says for the truth was, you
know, wanted to get rid of her-"and so
I'll take II pounds for her," says l, ''an' no
less"
mo less ?" says he,
why, sure, that's chape enough" says l.
''Troth it is, says he, land I'm thinkin'
it's too ohape it is" says he, "for if there
wasn't somethin' the matter, it's not for that |
paltry sum you'd be sollin' the fine milch
COW, as she is to all appearance"
Indeed, says 1, upon my soul and con-
science she is fine milch cow"
Maybe" says he, "she's gone off her
milk, in regard that she doesn't feed well!"
"Och, by this and that says l. 'in regard
Of foedin' there's not the likes of her in Ire
land so make your mind easy, and If you
like her for the money, you may have her."
"Why, indeed, I'm not in a hurry" says
he, ''and I'll wait till see how they go in
the fair y