Pat Told Me A Story Of An Unfaithful Wife, Which I Will Give Further
Down, And Then Broke Into A Moral Dispute With The Visitor, Which
Caused Immense Delight To Some Young Men Who Had Come Down To Listen
To The Story.
Unfortunately it was carried on so rapidly in Gaelic
that I lost most of the points.
This old man talks usually in a mournful tone about his ill-health,
and his death, which he feels to be approaching, yet he has
occasional touches of humor that remind me of old Mourteen on the
north island. To-day a grotesque twopenny doll was lying on the
floor near the old woman. He picked it up and examined it as if
comparing it with her. Then he held it up: 'Is it you is after
bringing that thing into the world,' he said, 'woman of the house?'
Here is the story: -
One day I was travelling on foot from Galway to Dublin, and the
darkness came on me and I ten miles from the town I was wanting to
pass the night in. Then a hard rain began to fall and I was tired
walking, so when I saw a sort of a house with no roof on it up
against the road, I got in the way the walls would give me shelter.
As I was looking round I saw a light in some trees two perches off,
and thinking any sort of a house would be better than where I was, I
got over a wall and went up to the house to look in at the window.
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