To my great relief, the man of drugs informed me, laughingly, that he had given Terry a quantity of chalk and eight grains of tartar emetic, as he learned that Terry was already in possession of the ounce of laudanum, and all the neighbors knew that Biddy had driven him to desperation by flirting with his rival, Jim O’Connor. The young man had judiciously told Terry that the powder would make the laudanum sure to operate more effectually.
“How long will it take?” he asked, and bagged all for use when the refusal should come.
My course was now clear. I was in for sport. Sending the druggist’s clerk for my stomach-pump, to be in readiness in case the emetic should not operate,—which was scarcely impossible, for eight grains of tartar emetic, taken at a dose, would almost vomit the potatoes out of a bag,—I waited the result.
As for Biddy, I let her lie; for I thought she deserved her punishment. My heart was always tender towards the sex, and I generally expected a “fellow-feeling.”
SUCCESS OF TERRY’S COURTSHIP.
In a short time it became evident that Terry’s stomach was not so tough as his will, and he began to intermingle long and portentous sighs with his prayers, and to perspire freely. I gave him a wide berth, in anticipation of the Jonah that was to come up shortly. I was anxious now that Biddy should revive in time to witness his grand effort. Terry was tough, and held out. Shortly she revived, and suddenly starting up, and recollecting the situation, she made one bound for Terry, crying,—
“Ah, Terry, Terry, dear Terry! I’ll have ye now. Yis, I will; and I don’t care who hears me. I always loved ye, but that divil’s baby, Mag, always kept tellin’ me ye’d love me the betther if I didn’t give in to ye too soon. Ah, Terry, dear, only live, and I’ll go to the ends of the world for ye. Ah, an’ what would me poor mother say, if she was here? Och, hone! Och, hone! Docther, now what are ye doin’? A purty docther ye are; an’ ye pumped out yer own counthryman, that didn’t die, sure, an’ he tuk twice as much as poor Terry.”
Meantime the boy had arrived with the pump.
“Up wid ye now, and use the black pipe ye put down the poor fellow’s throat over the way last summer. I’d take it mesilf, if it would do; but God knows whether I’d be worth the throuble.”