The Lady's Stirring Narrative, with Spring Lamb Trimmings.
Mrs. Flynn relates with much pathos an incident in her life, that graphically illustrates woman's trustfulness and man's perfidy.
"Oi waz in the market wan mornin' lookin' fer some mate, an' a Dootch butcher axed me how an illegant bit av Spring lamb wad soot. Oi sed it wad do af it waz good, an he sed it waz the best in the market or he wudn't be offerin' it to a lady loike meself. Oi'm fond av Spring lamb, an so Oi took a hunk av it home an' cooked it fer me ould mon an' meself.
"May the divil take me av it tasted roight. It had a sort av a rank an romantic flavor thet Oi niver kem across afore, an' heaven help me, may Oi niver come across it again.
"Oi kept me jaw to meself, and said nathin'. After dinner the ould mon said the Spring lamb tasted kin o' quare an' he wondered had Oi cooked the baste enough. Oi said Oi had cooked the baste joost roight, an' Oi saw nathin wrong wid the taste av it.
"Whin the ould mon had gone out to wurruk, Oi tuk a luck at the chunk av mate that was left, an' phat do you tink Oi saw? A bit av the skin av the varmint, an' it had hair on it instead of wool, begorra. The thavin' Dootchman hed sold me goat instead av lamb! Bad luk to him!
"Oi coodn't affoord to lose the mate, d'ye see, an' so Oi kept me jaw to meself an' said nothin agin. Oi stewed it up wid spices and tings to disguoise the taste, an' we had it agin fer supper. Oi told the ould mon Oi didn't care fer enny Spring lamb fer supper, but it wuz very beautiful cooked up wid spices, an he needed plenty av mate now that he wuz wurkin' wid the Park Commishioners. He ate awhoile, an' thin he said the Spring lamb tasted kind o' quare, an' he thought it wuz too high-toned fer us.
"'Now, me darlint,' Oi said, 'the Spring lamb is a little high-toned, but it is none too good fer the loikes av us, an' ye moost ate hearty so ye can do good wurruk fer the Park Commishioners.'
"He said the Park Commishioners be blowed, an' he cood do good enough wurruk fer them on roast bafe, an' wad Oi git roast bafe the nixt toime?
"Oi said, 'My darlint, av coorse Oi'll git roast bafe the nixt toime, but we moost ate all the Spring lamb foorst.'
"Well, ye see it took me hoosband several days to git away wid the Spring lamb, but he foinly got trough wid the job, an' thin Oi took the bit av skin wid the hair on, phat Oi had saved as a guarantay av good faith, an' Oi wint down to the market. Oi hoonted up the beautiful Dootchman, an' sez Oi:
"'Have you enny noice mate this mornin', Dootchy?'
"'Phat koind wad you loike this mornin', Mrs. Flynn?' sez he.
"'Oi ate nothin' but the best,' sez Oi.
"'How wad a noice bit av Spring lamb soot?' sez he.
"'Tanks,' sez Oi. 'Spring lamb is a bit high-toned fer me. Oi'll take a foine large steak av ye plaze.'
"'About how large?' sez he.
"'About tin pounds,' sez Oi, 'an' a foine juicy wan, av ye plaze.'
"So Oi tuk the steak an' takin' a good grip av it, Oi slammed it around his big Dootch ears till he yelled bloody murther in fourteen languages. 'The nixt toime ye sell me goat fer Spring lamb, ye thavin' Dootchman'—an' Oi kept bastin' him around the ugly lugs—'the nixt toime ye sell me goat, Oi say, Oi'll make ye ate his whuskers.'"
—N. Y. World.