Brid. It gives me away to the gang, does it, ye hussy! I’ll give yez to comprehend that divil a cint do I care for the gang. Mary Ann Rebecca O’Rielly, sit right down on that chair and give your tongue a rest, or I’ll lather ye over the head wid the ironin’ board.
Mary. (Sitting down.) All right. But hurry up with supper, mother.
Brid. ’Pears to me you are in an awful hurry.
Mary. So I am. I want to go to the Hoolihan masquerade ball.
Brid. Yez want to go to the Hoolihan massacree ball? Divil a step do you stir there to-night. No daughter av mine shall go to a massacree ball and dance wid five-cent barbers. Do yez want to be set down as a spieler?
Mary. But I want to go awful bad. All the boys and girls are going to take it in.
Brid. Yis; an’ the police will take thim in. Where is the ball to be held, at the Academy of Sculpture?
Mary. No, ma’am, at Wulhalla Hall.
Brid. Wulhalla Hall? That’s a foine, noice, jinteel place for a young girl to go to. Who are ye goin’ to go wid?