"Much good may it do ye!" said Billy Baxter as he walked in with his hands in his pockets.
"Thank ye, Billy, haave a good bowl of broth?"
"Thank ye, thank ye," he said. "I don't mind a good bowl ov broth, Anna, but I'd prefer a bowl—jist a bowl of good broth!"
"Ye've had larks for breakvist surely, haaven't ye, Billy?" Anna said.
"No, I didn't, but there's a famine of good broth these days. When I was young we had the rale McKie!" Billy took a bowl, nevertheless, and went to Jamie's bench to "sup" it.
Eliza Wallace, the fish woman, came in.
"Much good may it do ye," she said.
"Thank ye kindly, 'Liza, sit down an' haave a bowl of broth!" It was baled out and Eliza sat down on the floor near the window.
McGrath, the rag man, "dhrapped in." "Much good may it do ye!" he said.
"Thank ye kindly, Tom," Anna said, "ye'll surely have a bowl ov broth."