“Oh mam,” says she. “I couldn’t get word with you in private before. Let you hunt that lad from the place.”
“And why, might I ask?” says herself.
“Sure how would he be a right gentleman and he having a foot on him like a horse?” says the girl.
With that the mistress began to lament and to groan.
“What’ll I do! What’ll I do, and I scared useless with dread?”
“I’ll go in and impeach him,” says the servant girl.
“Quit off out of this,” says she. “We’ll have no horse feet in this place.”
The master got up to run her from the room.
“Look under the table at your lovely gentleman’s foot!” says she.