“Well, this was a young woman what had an action agin Shquire Murphy iv Ballynashoughlin himself— a woman as was no more nor a mere simple governess!”
It would be impossible to convey the depth of social unimportance conveyed by his tone and manner; and coming from a man of “shreds and patches,” it was more than comic. Andy had his good suit of frieze and homespun; but whilst he was on mountain duty, he spared these and appeared almost in the guise of a scarecrow.
“Well! what happened?”
“Faix, whin she tould her shtory the shquire’s councillor luked up at the jury, an’ he whispered a wurrd to the shquire and his ’an’r wrote out a shlip iv paper an’ handed it to him, an’ the councillor ups an’ says he: ‘Me Lard and Gintlemin iv the Jury, me client is prepared to have the honour iv the lady’s hand if she will so, for let bygones be bygones.’ An’ sure enough they was married on the Sunday next four weeks; an’ there she is now dhrivin’ him about the counthry in her pony-shay, an’ all the quality comin’ to tay in the garden, an’ she as affable as iver to all the farmers round. Aye, an’ be the hokey, the shquire himself sez that it was a good day for him whin he sot eyes on her first, an’ that he don’t know why he was such a dam fool as iver to thry to say ‘no’ to her, or to wish it.”
“Quite a tale with a moral, Andy! Bravo! Mrs. Murphy.”
“A morial is it? Now may I make bould to ask yer ’an’r what morial ye take out iv it?”
“The moral, Andy, that I see is, When you see the right woman go for her for all you’re worth, and thank God for giving you the chance.” Andy jumped up and gave me a great slap on the back.
“Hurro! more power to yer elbow! but it’s a bhoy afther me own h’arrt y’ are. I big yer pardon, surr, for the liberty; but it’s mighty glad I am.”
“Granted, Andy; I like a man to be hearty, and you certainly are. But why are you so glad about me?”
“Because I like yer ’an’r. Shure in all me life I niver see so much iv a young gintleman as I’ve done iv yer ’an’r. Surr, I’m an ould man compared wid ye—I’m the beginnin’ iv wan, at any rate, an’ I’d like to give ye a wurrd iv advice—git marrid while ye can! I tell ye this, surr, it’s not whin the hair is beginnin’ to git thin on to the top iv yer head that a nice young girrul ’ill love ye for yerself. It’s the people that goes all their lives makin’ money and lukin’ after all kinds iv things that’s iv no kind iv use to thim, that makes the mishtake. Suppose ye do git marrid when ye’re ould and bald, an’ yer legs is shaky, an’ ye want to be let sit close to the fire in the warrum corner, an’ ye’ve lashins iv money that ye don’t know what to do wid! Do you think that it’s thin that yer wives does be dhramin’ iv ye all the time and worshippin’ the ground ye thrid? Not a bit iv it! They do be wantin’—aye and thryin’ too—to help God away wid ye!”