"That's broth for your noggin', Jamie," Anna said. Encouraged by Anna, Hughie came back with a thrust that increased Jamie's sympathy for him.
"I'm undther yer roof an' beholdin' t' yer kindness, but I'd like t' ax ye a civil quest'yun if I may be so bowld."
"Did ye blow a farmer's brains out in th' famine fur a pint ov milk?"
"It's a lie!" Jamie said, indignantly.
"Well, me bhoy, there must b' quite a wheen, thrainin' fur me belt in Anthrim!"
"There's something in that, Hughie!"
"Aye, somethin' Hughie Thornton didn't put in it!"
We youngsters were irritated and impatient over what seemed to us useless palaver about minor details. We wanted the story and wanted it at once, for we understood that Hughie went to bed with the crows and we stood in terror lest this huge bundle of pockets with its unearthly voice should vanish into thin air.
"D'ye know McShane?" he asked.